Tuesday 11 June 2013

The Art of Letting Go

When I was little I hung onto my small yellow and ultimately frayed blanket with a tenacity bordering on mania. My mom informs me that when she pried it from my hands to wash it - I would stand mournfully in front of the washing machine waiting for the ordeal to end while she attempted to reassure me it would reappear at some point. This should be an indication of my fondness to let go of things - blankets, bad boyfriends, bad habits, bad jobs - I can cling on with Olympian endurance. So I find myself now struggling with the notion of the things that I can't hang onto and trying not to fall any further down the rabbit hole of wishing my final time away on the things I can't have. Chief among them is work and the realization that as much as I imagined stepping back into the life I had - with a job that consumed me - my body is not up to that challenge - and everything I put off, declined or failed to pursue using my work and my slavery to an incessant email trail as an excuse sits there now in my consciousness - a list of what was avoided and what cannot be reclaimed.

I suppose I imagine there are legions of people out there who face challenges similar to mine and do so with benevolent grace. I want to find that place - that acceptance and crawl into it, with my blanket wrapped around me and nothing but love in my heart.

6 comments:

  1. On one had I'm at a total loss for words but on the other I have a million things I want to say to you. I have memories of us spending summer days riding our bikes and sharing our chiken noodle soup with a thousand crackers and an ice cube on top. Other memories of me viting you in Quesnel and being so impressed that you were on the radio. So excited and envious that you had an awesome career that seemed to me to be so romantic and exciting compared to my desk job. You were out there conquering the world and I was stuck in PG living vicariously through bits and pieces shared by your mom with mine. Now I'm reading this blog (my first blog actually) and once again I am stunned by your strength and grace. Why, Michelle, do we wait for something like this to happen before we reconnect with people? I guess we all get busy and put off everything until tomorrow, which we all know never comes. I want and need you to know that I am inspired by you, I always have been but now as an adult reading what you have shared with my 'older' eyes I know that you are truly special. I also want you to know that I have 2 kidneys and one has your name on it should you ever decide you want it. I mean that with every part of my heart and soul. I understand and honor your decision and I will pray every night that you find strength and peace and please know that someone who you probably haven't thought of for a very long time is thinking about you all the time. I smiled when I realized Samuel Jackson and Miss Daisy were your dogs because I remember Jeremiah Johnson and Ralph de Brickisar. We will talk soon I hope.
    Janet Murray (Wickstrom)

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    1. Wow Janet - how amazing to hear from you. I treasure my memories of the time I spent with you...and it never felt long enough. It is amazing how technology can make these connections possible and I can't tell you adequately how much it means to get your love and support. I have heard various updates about your life through my mom...but never took the time to follow up on the many moments when I wanted to reach out to you. In any event, I send my enormous love to you and your girls...xo

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  2. We haven't spoken for about five years, but I have thought about you often during that time, and wondered how you were doing.
    Your blog is wonderful -- thought provoking, wise, and painfully honest. You are a very gifted writer.
    You have had so many incredibly difficult challenges in your life. I am in awe of your strength in the face of it all. It doesn't seem fair that, after everything you have been through, your body is starting to shut down.
    I realize you are probably very tired by this point, but you have so much to offer to the world, I hope you will choose to stay in it. Sending you thoughts of healing and peace...
    Cathy Dargie

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    1. It is lovely to hear from you Cathy and thank you for your amazingly kind words. Your wishes are gratefully received.

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  3. Once again, a million hugs.

    It's not often I have no words, but your posts leave me with so little to say -- just gut-wrenching love and admiration.

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