Life has gotten in the way of my writing, but now writing is going to help me process life.

For the past several months, I’ve been dealing with a family situation that occupied much of my time and energy. In the past few weeks, that situation has dominated my days. Finally, I am emerging from the fog, and in the process, trying to revive my creativity, because I know from past experience that creativity heals me and strengthens my mental health.

I do not wish to share too many details about my situation, but I’m willing to say this: I’ve lost many nights of sleep to worry and uncertainty. I’ve lost many hours to packing and driving and drive-thru meals. I’ve lost my father, a man I didn’t always understand but still dearly miss. I’ve lost my beloved dog, who came to me years ago when I was grieving and left me with more to grieve.

But even in the haze of grief and fatigue, I am growing. I’ve learned that managing change is always hard, but especially so when that change involves facing our own mortality. I’ve learned that while I thrive on “to do” lists and crossing items off of those lists, grief does not fall neatly into bullet points, and the affairs of one person’s life are not so easily categorized and concluded.

I’ve learned that while I’ve lost much, I possess even more. I’ve been surrounded by kind words and cooked meals, virtual hugs and physical affection, cards of encouragement and calls of comfort. While I sat in a hard wooden pew listening to “Amazing Grace” and studying my father’s dress blue uniform hanging at the front of a funeral chapel, I glanced to my right and left and found strength and comfort in my grown children, one bearded and all much taller than me, as well as dear friends and family who traveled many miles to be by my side. Now back home on my farm, which is too quiet without the deep throated bark of my German Shepherd, I no longer take for granted the warm, soft fur and happy tail wags of our small, neurotic but adorable, Poomeranian.

The past few months have reminded me once again of a lesson I know but too often neglect, that I must appreciate the present, with all of its smells, sounds, and feels. That I must invest in the people who are important to me. And that I must continue to run and breathe and stretch myself out on my yoga mat. The author Margaret Atwood recently said on Kelly Corrigan Wonders (a podcast fav), “There is no ‘the rest of our life’. There is today, tomorrow, and the rest is unknown.” I agree, and am learning to embrace uncertainty, but I feel pretty sure that running and yoga will help me with whatever unknown awaits me.

Facing one’s mortality, and the mortality of those we love, doesn’t have to shut us down. It should inspire us to rise.

At my father’s service, the pastor gained my immediate respect when he quoted Emerson’s comments on success. I’d like to share them here.

“What is success? To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate the beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch Or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

What are the things that inspire you to rise and to appreciate the present?

Thanks for getting thoughtful with me,

After Florida State recently whooped the (still) National Champion Virginia Cavaliers men’s basketball team, Virginia Coach Tony Bennett had some surprising words to share about adversity. During a post-game interview, Bennett said,

“You’ve got to be thankful for what adversity teaches you and are you thankful enough and wise enough to apply it.” 

Tony Bennett, UVA Men’s Basketball Coach

Thankful for adversity? This is a concept I haven’t heard much in the past 12 months of difficulty we have faced during COVID. It’s a refreshing sentiment in a culture saturated with conflict and concern. Now, I understand losing a basketball game is a far cry from losing a loved one, a job, peace of mind, food, medicine, and water. I also appreciate it might be hard to take the advice of a man who makes four million a year coaching basketball when so many now are unemployed or underemployed and worried about things more significant than a season record.

However, many of us share a fond regard for sports and the values they teach. I coach cross country, not just because I love running and get excited about teaching kids the training benefits of a tempo run, but also because athletics challenge us to grow, physically, and more importantly, mentally and emotionally. I care less if my athletes claim a title and more about how they develop as young men and women to thrive in a world that is often unfair, exhausting, and difficult. One of my favorite quotes I share with my team is:

So let’s take a look at what Bennett says about adversity and use it for inspiration as we enter the 13^th month of this pandemic. Bennett’s coaching rests on five pillars: humility, passion, unity, servant hood, and thankfulness. My, what a different country we could be if we all spent more time focusing on these ideals and less time on all the other junk flying around today. Yes, we are living through difficult times, but we can learn from these challenges and become better people, if only we set our mind in the right place.

Bennett has said, “If you learn to use it right, the adversity, it will buy you a ticket to a place you could not have gone any other way.” I assume here Bennett is referring to the humiliating loss to 16 seed UMBC in the first round of the 2018 NCAA Basketball tournament. The loss brought harsh criticism and even death threats to the #1 seeded Virginia team. Bennett has often referred to that loss as a “painful gift” that forced the team to grow and propelled them to their 2019 National Championship victory.

For us, off the court, can we think of this pandemic as a “painful gift”, one that is forcing us to reevaluate how we live, what we prioritize, and how we treat each other? Can we embrace the idea that the adversity of the past several months is moving us, individually and collectively, to a place of understanding we could not have found otherwise? Life has definitely handed us adversity in COVID-19. Now, will we be thankful enough and wise enough to apply what adversity is teaching us? I certainly hope so.

What inspires you 13 months into this pandemic? Please share!

Thanks for getting inspired with me!