Sometimes life is painful and stressful. You try your best to fix it and make it work and things just seem to muddle up into a worse tangle.
And sometimes, in the midst of it, friends invite you to come over. And as much as you like them, you know you’re a weepy mess and would rather hide away until you’re presentable again, but in the end, you buck up and be brave and be real and you go and see them anyway and let them see you in all your weepy messyness and somehow it’s OK. And you cry and laugh and talk together, and discover that they have tangled messes too, and even though the tangles are different, you connect over the emotions they provoke: anxiety, fear, stress, loss, and the desire to hide. And you hug and laugh and cry a bit more and feel less alone, less weird, and so glad you were brave and didn’t let fear of being vulnerable keep you from being vulnerable.
That was our Easter. One of the very best Easters of my entire life.
We spent it with Canadian Viking friends who ended up being Canadian Viking Kindred Spirits who loved us and accepted us and made us feel wanted and worth loving.
They made roast turkey and cabbage rolls and perogies – the comfort food of my Canadian childhood that made me feel right at home.
They showed us all the amazing things they’re building and trying and experimenting with, and that made us feel inspired and excited.
And they taught us how to make Ukrainian Easter Eggs, something I’ve wanted to learn since I was a little girl seeing those magical eggs on Sesame Street.
It was so much fun. How we laughed as our attempts at intricate designs were mussed up with great blobs of wax and smeared dyes and accidental crackings. And how we grinned at how beautiful they all looked in spite of our lack of skill and dexterity.
This morning I looked at those eggs again and was comforted and given hope. I often feel like one of them, cracked and blobbed and smeared. I make an awful lot of mistakes, and this week I messed up in a big way. After faithfully getting every bill paid in full and on time for 18 months, I missed one, which resulted in a huge fine on top of a now massive bill at a time when I simply can’t pay it. I felt like vomiting from the stress of it, feeling stupid and frustrated and a failure, those extra emotional burdens we tend to pile on our already battered hearts in these moments. So I cried and felt very small and foolish and gave in to big ol’ waves of fear and anxiety. Then I stopped and took a (few) deep breath(s) and got to work, looking for more work so I can pay off this wretched thing, even if it’s on the world’s smallest payment plan. And I spoke truth to myself. Yes, I made a mistake, and it was an enormous one, but it doesn’t mean I’M a mistake. I’m still worthy of love and respect. I’ll deal with the consequences, I’ll learn from this, and I’ll press on with hope and kindness.
Whatever tangle this day finds you in, know you are loved, always, and no matter how much you mess up, you always get to start again and figure a way out and make it better. xo