This year has been a heavy one. It’s been one of those years I know I will look back on for years to come to point to some of the most joyous and horrifying moments of my life.
Last year was all about change. Last year was all about me. I turned my life upside down and I put myself even more at the center of my universe than I usually am.
“Look at me!” I was constantly saying. “Look at me changing and doing. This is my year!”
And the universe let me have that year. God allowed me to focus on myself for a short period of time and trick myself into thinking that as time goes on, things only get easier and make more sense than they ever have before.
I had a fleeting moment of hubris, thinking that I had everything figured out, that things had all fallen into place.
But this year was my reminder that things never get easier and never make sense.
The world isn’t here to cater to me.
Life is hard, and it is short. And even when it’s long, even when you live to be 100, it’s still short.
This morning I woke up to news that one of my best friend’s father passed away early this morning. It was not expected. It makes no sense.
The past few weeks I’ve been so caught up in my family’s troubles, once again expecting the universe to make things all about me.
Logically, I knew it wasn’t about me, and I knew that my suffering was not unique – but somehow I still felt singled out and gave myself far more attention than I deserved.
But the wheels were turning behind the scenes, setting me up for a lesson in reality.
I’m learning how much human beings are really capable of enduring. And it’s more than I could have ever imagined, or would have ever wanted to imagine – but it’s also incredible and empowering.
I’m learning that empathy is everything.
I’m learning that our feelings unite us. We can feel as much anguish over the suffering of a loved one as we would if it was our own suffering.
I’m learning to take myself out of the equation more often, and to see the whole picture.
I’m accepting the fact that it will never be easy and it will never make sense, but that the moments when life is hardest and you’re the most confused will give more meaning to the rare moments of clarity than you would have ever realized without the heartache.