Tag: Joy

Tides

On By Tribal QueenIn Uncategorized

Life is so good. And I feel the need to document that I a) do not have to force my gratitude today, and b) have too much of it to fit on my daily gratitude list or even in a single blog post.

Document this, Elizabeth. Document it and Remember. Store it away for the lousy times. To remind yourself that life comes in ups and downs. That life will not always feel or be good. And that any pain which comes, will wash out with the tide as well.

Do not despair, Future Elizabeth. For God carries us through the tides of both joy and pain.

Something is on the Tracks

On By Tribal QueenIn Uncategorized

I don’t open up much to my patients. Three, to be exact, in my eight years of nursing, that I’ve shared with personally, who I’ve opened up to show my own humanity. Today, I had the honor to meet that third patient. She is kind. She is smart. She is engaging. She is helpful. She is gracious. She’s also a Nationals Fan. So, even on the night the Cards were swept out of our Series run, I sat by her bed talking about Frank Robinson and exclaiming at stellar pitches or close calls.

We bonded over Little Toot, our favorite children’s book, and our mutual experiences (and love!) of working in libraries. We swapped stories of meeting famous broadway stars and New York Times writers. We spoke of beauty. We spoke of awe-inspiring experiences. We shared our lives with each other. We shared our humanity with each other.

On my drive home, I wept for this woman. I wept for the connection we made, the humanity we shared. I wept over her decision to buy plane tickets to Barcelona instead of buying chemo treatment. I wept tears of gratitude for her.

As I crawled into bed with an episode of Downton Abby, I came across a scene in which Mrs Crawley exclaims at Mary’s new nursing skills while taking care of Matthew. Mary responds with a general, oh, he’s family, it’s nothing. And Mrs. Crawley responds with, “It’s the opposite of nothing.”

And here I am, weeping again. Because human connection is exactly that, the opposite of nothing, it is everything. It is worth giving up everything. It is paramount to our existence. It is, in fact, the only way towards survival.

Joy and heartbreak come together as railroad tracks, running along side each other, while our lives travel on top towards our destination.

Notre Dame Burns and I Can’t Cry

On By Tribal QueenIn Uncategorized

I find myself more and more utilitarian in my life. It started with food. I eat the protein and the carbs so I can keep functioning at work. Then it seeped into my home. I don’t cook for the joy of it any more. I cook to feed my body.

I’ve become more minimalist in my home life. Half of my apartment has been donated or sold in the last 6 months. My excuse for this is blame on my ex. When Jake and I lived together, he was anything but a minimalist. Quality, the best of the best, the latest thing, had to fill up our apartment. So we did. We filled this two bedroom to the brim with junk we didn’t need. I don’t know about him, but I didn’t want it either. It was just another red flag, trying to fill the void of a lousy, empty relationship. I use this excuse, and the idea that as a single woman with a cat, I have no need for a two bedroom apartment. I am donating or selling the majority of my books. My books! This girl who used to live by the motto: “A room without books is like a body without a soul.” I sold my record collection when my record player broke beyond repair. Saying to myself, “You can save money if you move into a studio apartment.” Some call it “downgrading,” but I’m starting to see it seep into my joy, or allow my joy to seep out. I’m not sure which.

My Instagram is almost nonexistent and I made that choice deliberately. The anxiety of posting regularly enough, of gaining followers, of constantly showing the great part of life, of seeming happy all the time, the fakeness of it all, was exhausting and painful. But one thing I’ve noticed since then is that my view of beauty has become altered. It too has become utilitarian. I don’t see the point in it anymore. I don’t see the point in having a pretty dress and doing my hair and makeup. I don’t see the point of going to the art museum. I don’t see the point in finding the beauty in this world and documenting it in my photography.

As I sit in my bedroom, the wall opposite to me is covered in my hiking photographs as well as a map of the entire Pacific Crest Trail with planning notes on it, as well as marker covering the portion of the trail I’ve hiked to date. The pictures are beautiful. Close ups of my favorite plant, the Saguaro cactus. Orange rock arches from Utah. Muddy boots from the Rio Grande. Rushing waterfalls. Mountain ranges stretching past comprehension. I used to seek out this beauty. I used to ache for it.

My utilitarianistic ways are causing problems: I’ve lost my appreciation for the world around me. Lost the joy. I realized this last night when I found myself reacting to others’ reactions on Notre Dame burning. Notre Dame—burning. 800 years of history and beauty and worship. And I didn’t care. My first thought was, “but did anyone die?” Which is important. But I couldn’t understand the world’s feelings of loss. I couldn’t see the beauty that was lost. I couldn’t understand the beauty, so I ignored it. I’ve ignored beauty for the sake of beauty for so long, beauty didn’t register with me. The loss of beauty didn’t affect me.   

As I write this, I know I need to jolt myself out of this rut. Of all the stories throughout time, when did you meet a good guy who didn’t appreciate beauty? It’s always the bad guy. There’s a reason for that. Beauty should be appreciated for its own sake. Food should be good, not only good for you. Art should exist for art’s sake. Joy should exist, be cultivated, expressed, and experienced.  I want to blame this on living in the city. I don’t have my mountains, my waterfalls, my saguaros, but that’s not the point of life. It’s to find joy in all of God’s creation. It’s to appreciate all of this world, cultivate it, and hand it back to God in appreciation.

Today, I will find joy. I will appreciate it, respect it, love it, and I will hand it back to God with thanks.