Happy and Sad Hold Hands

A couple of years back, I was struck by sorrow and celebrations's presence in the same time space, same breath even. How grieving and happiness could co-exist was baffling to me. I resisted it, felt that experiencing one in the other's presence was somehow disrespectful and took something away from the other. Yet, time and time again, it was so. They shared space.

As I began to accept that this was indeed how things went and how things could go, I saw it more and more. I also saw how the cohabitation of differing emotions and what seemed to be extreme experiences was actually a kindness, a necessary kindness, maybe more obviously in the face of sorrow, but even so, a kindness. One helps the other not to get stuck, to keep moving forward, moving through, and the other helps keep the right pace, not too rushed, enough of a slowing to enable presence and alignment of priorities.

I dubbed this co-existence with a phrase that has stayed with me, "happy and sad hold hands." These words gently remind me that it is okay for both to be together, not just side by side, but intrinsically and intentionally linked to help me through life's journey.

Routine

In one of the darkest times of my life, I was counseled to keep some sort of routine. Something regular, normal, each day; this would be a vehicle to move through the stress. It would calm, bring some order into chaos and help me to keep on, keep going.

After immersing myself in the news of the great tragedy in Boston yesterday, I went to bed feeling sad and overwhelmed for those whose lives were instantly changed. I woke this morning and went along with life, my daily routine. I looked over at my husband and saw he was the picture of doing exactly this. He was moving through. The sight of him doing so was calming.

What I realized back in the darkness was this: moving along with the regular things takes nothing away from the importance of whatever else is going on. It just helps us to move, to keep going, to not get stuck.