On Thursday, I put forth my memories of the tragedy that was this day ten years ago.
Today, I celebrated life in remembrance of those who lost theirs. I do believe most of them would want that. I know I would want that.
When I go, sure, be sad for a bit. But then remember my zest for life and honor me by emulating that. I am no stranger to loss and hardship. Every day is fraught with challenges – big and small. I honor my loved ones and all manner of heroes who've passed away by taking on these challenges... by diving into every moment of being alive, by wringing every ounce of "experience" and every drop of joy that I can from this unwieldy and unpredictable thing that is LIFE.
Before we were married, my husband once asked me, "What is the basis of your spiritual foundation?" I got really pissy. I didn't understand the question... and I didn't enjoy neither the tone nor the context in which the question was asked. He and I were in the middle of a run, and it was merely his idea of light and lively conversation to pass the time. Whatever happened to the Kevin Bacon Game?
What he wanted to know was: When things are hard... unfathomably hard, when I am experiencing deep pain... physical or emotional, when the s*** hits the fan, when the going gets tough... how do I make it through? What do I look to? How do I find peace? How do I find the reassurance that things will be okay?
I told him I didn't know. I just do. Somehow... somewhere within... I just know. And trust.
Things might really hurt or be really hard for awhile... but things will be okay. They will.
And I ask "How can things not turn out okay?" and I am reminded of the expression that goes something like...
"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay... it's not the end."
Compared to the losses of 10 years ago, it's trivial, but I didn't run or do any sort of physical activity more strenuous than grocery shopping for 8 long years. Because I couldn't. Most days the pain was incredible and nearly unbearable... and it was always there. I limped. I hobbled. I cried. But I knew it wasn't the end. Things weren't okay yet.
August 31st marked one year since my return to running. Today I ran to remember. The plan was 11 miles to remember 9/11. I was alone when I hit the 10-mile mark after running with my new friends for the first 9. When I looked in as I began that eleventh mile, I was completely overcome with joy... the joy of being able to run... the joy of being alive... the joy that things are starting to be okay. I didn't stop at 11... I held that feeling for an extra mile.
Not everything is okay... and that's cool.
I don't want it to be the end yet :)
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Click here for a chance to win a slot in The Bloggess sidebar for a month sponsored by freefringes.com
Today, I celebrated life in remembrance of those who lost theirs. I do believe most of them would want that. I know I would want that.
When I go, sure, be sad for a bit. But then remember my zest for life and honor me by emulating that. I am no stranger to loss and hardship. Every day is fraught with challenges – big and small. I honor my loved ones and all manner of heroes who've passed away by taking on these challenges... by diving into every moment of being alive, by wringing every ounce of "experience" and every drop of joy that I can from this unwieldy and unpredictable thing that is LIFE.
Before we were married, my husband once asked me, "What is the basis of your spiritual foundation?" I got really pissy. I didn't understand the question... and I didn't enjoy neither the tone nor the context in which the question was asked. He and I were in the middle of a run, and it was merely his idea of light and lively conversation to pass the time. Whatever happened to the Kevin Bacon Game?
What he wanted to know was: When things are hard... unfathomably hard, when I am experiencing deep pain... physical or emotional, when the s*** hits the fan, when the going gets tough... how do I make it through? What do I look to? How do I find peace? How do I find the reassurance that things will be okay?
I told him I didn't know. I just do. Somehow... somewhere within... I just know. And trust.
Things might really hurt or be really hard for awhile... but things will be okay. They will.
I look up and I see this...
a glorious Maxfield Parrish sky
and this...
the iconic engineering masterpiece that is the Golden Gate Bridge
I look down and I see this...
the exhaustion of a little boy who spent the day playing so hard and so joyously
that he fell asleep on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table
and this....
the limitless curiosity of a two-year old that mandates taking out all the puzzles
and dumping out all the pieces without wanting to put them together
I look out and I see this...
the delight of a swing
and this....
the joy of making new friends!
"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay... it's not the end."
Compared to the losses of 10 years ago, it's trivial, but I didn't run or do any sort of physical activity more strenuous than grocery shopping for 8 long years. Because I couldn't. Most days the pain was incredible and nearly unbearable... and it was always there. I limped. I hobbled. I cried. But I knew it wasn't the end. Things weren't okay yet.
August 31st marked one year since my return to running. Today I ran to remember. The plan was 11 miles to remember 9/11. I was alone when I hit the 10-mile mark after running with my new friends for the first 9. When I looked in as I began that eleventh mile, I was completely overcome with joy... the joy of being able to run... the joy of being alive... the joy that things are starting to be okay. I didn't stop at 11... I held that feeling for an extra mile.
Not everything is okay... and that's cool.
I don't want it to be the end yet :)
**********************************
Click here for a chance to win a slot in The Bloggess sidebar for a month sponsored by freefringes.com
