I’ve been in Bellingham for two years this weekend.
That’s insane. I kind of can’t even fathom it. That I’ve been here for two years with all the ups and downs and tantrums (by myself and by toddlers). I’ve learned more here then I can articulate.
The main thing being, I am very, very glad I have decided to the best of my ability to not just “get through” this season.
It was something I noticed being the two year old room. The two year olds were rough. I would find myself counting down the moments til nap and then the moments til three pm.
Trying to force yourself through moments, trying to just get through days is not a way to live.
There was a time in my life that I didn’t want to sleep at night because I didn’t want the sun to come up. I was working in a pretty hostile classroom and I was in an incredibly deep dark well of depression. I would stay up ‘til one or two in the morning just to have more hours in the day to myself.
If I slept then I would have to do all the things again.
I remember hitting my breaking point, knowing that for myself and for those around me I could no longer just “fake it ‘til I make it”. Something had to give. I couldn’t just put my head down and try to get through.
It wasn’t working.
So, I made changes, I moved out the classroom, I started therapy, I went on antidepressants.
I tried to find joy again and I worked really hard to do so.
There are times, chunks of the last two years, when I know in my knower that I was sitting in a pit of depression. That I didn’t want to go to sleep at night because then the day would come again.
And I would have to do all the things.
I’m thankful for the people around me who remind me to be present and for the tiny humans who demand it.
I don’t know what this third year in Bellingham holds and I don’t know how many years will follow it; but I’m going to choose, still, to the best of my ability to be present. I’m going to choose to try not to live of faking it ‘til I make it.
I have parts of my life that I can say without out a doubt that I’m trying to get through. I’m pretty sure most of us would be lying if we said we weren’t trying to get through something.
A season in a city, a season of singleness, a season before marriage, a season of a job.
Days, weeks, months that we are so desperately trying to get past, to get to the next season.
Why do we deem these moments less important than the ones we are trying to get through? Who are we to decide what moments we can learn from?
If I allow myself, I can learn from everyday. I can learn from the tantrums and the laughter and moments when I feel less than myself.
But the instance I put my mind in forward, the instance I decide that minute I want ahead of me is less important than the minute I am in, is the instant I decide that my present doesn’t matter
During one of my object lessons I did at camp a couple weeks ago I talked about how there is a plan and a purpose for our lives. There are big, awesome things ahead.
That’s hard to stomach sometimes.
More, is hard to stomach.
But, this minute you are in right now? The one in which you’ve decided to read this collection of words?
This is a part of your more.
And so is the next and the next.
Let’s start with tomorrow. Let’s start with not getting through tomorrow, but for living every moment of it.
Let’s create joy and growth and hope and light.
So, when we get to the next day and the day after that, we won’t have moments lost in the abyss, but days we can build upon.
Let’s do the damn thing each and every day.
And when we need to- take a deep breath to our toes, and dive back in.