Strength out of fragility

My posts here recently, have described loss, primarily of mobility, and temporary in nature. I find myself immured in loss, though I have much about which to be thankful. My blessings include a wonderful spouse, a caring family, work that I love, and a very comfortable life, even with a busted kneecap. Having been unable to be up, about, and active over the last four weeks, I have had time to be reflective, and this is a good thing. How often do we rush about in our own lives, and devote too little time to considering both the minutia, and the bigger picture.

During this period, the mind takes turns through areas that are uncomfortable. I ponder situations that perplex me, and find that I am still perplexed. The loss of mobility, and the dependence on others, leaves me feeling helpless, and prone to tears. The tears come so easily because there are situations that present themselves at this time of life that leave me somewhat fragile. The loss of mobility can be an analogy for deeper losses in that they are both visceral. I cannot clean up the mess five feet away because I cannot get down to it. I know that both adversity and loss are character building, and I am mostly grateful for it. How often now can I speak to someone else’s pain and fear because I have experienced and addressed my own. While there are no answers to some situations, there is solidarity in shared experience. I met a new friend several months ago, through a shared experience, and found that I can cry for her, as often as I cry for myself. Tears in this context are shared in so many ways, and I hope to join in the tears of others to help them bear their burden.

I listened to Leonard Cohen’s song, Allelujah, sung by Rufus Wainwright, this morning. It is so beautiful in so many ways, that tears were flowing long before the end. This release of emotion means to be that I can continue to work through my own pain, contribute to comforting others, and at least leave my temporary injury behind in the next month or two. Other losses can be seen through a different lens, at least temporarily, and for that I am thankful.