No matter our health situation, our age group, or anything else; we can still do something to help make a difference. Maybe something small, like helping a neighbour who’s a care giver. They don’t even need to know who did it.
Each moment is another opportunity for us to learn, grow and invite more love and compassion in for ourselves, others, and the world. I decided that instead of living in worry and fear, I would build an empire of love.
There is a very popular ancient parable and a folk tale from India about six blind men and an elephant. It has several different versions, so I decided to put my own spin on it.
I love analogies. This particular morning, I realized I had stumbled upon one that was a little more personal than most.
Their stories are unique, yet share one commonality: their lives were taken unexpectedly by a virus. It saddens me to think about how those stories may have ended, that they may have been alone in nursing homes or hospitals, without their loved ones by their side holding their hand or kissing their cheek.
I believe the universe was preparing me for something – the pivotal moment when the oncologist would tell us, many months later, that the cancer was back and had spread to other organs in my husband’s body.
Then I learned something else. As jazz saxophonist great, Charlie Parker, said, “If you don’t live it, it won’t come out your horn.” What… you mean I have to actually be this stuff?
From spearheading your company’s aid efforts to supporting local business and even conducting storytime over Skype, there are numerous ways to help while still maintaining social distancing. The crucial element revolves around the fact that you take stock of your situation, identify the needs, and then get proactive, offering support to those who need it.
We are hopeful though, hopeful that we will find a way to drive down this road without all the obstacles and signposts that keep us distracted from the real issues at hand. It never ends, does it? It will go on forever and we will be lucky to have been a part of it; part of the road less travelled.
Perhaps over time I will be able to put this little ball of grief somewhere, store it in a grief drawer or bury it in my back yard with my phlox and roses and dahlias. Maybe there, the grief will lie in hope that it will grow into something, perhaps even into joy.