Patience is like a long drawn out winter sometimes. The months drag on with cold air that delivers one hell of a frosty bite, and another one at a new level just to remind you it’s there. To add to the blow a wind will whip through so cold that it penetrates your winter coat and hits you right inside of your bones.
It feels like you will never be warm again.
Just when you think that grey sky will be grey forever you will notice a little sunbeam, peeking through the clouds. Like it has to fight the thick wall of grey just to show you it’s still there, trying to offer you one small sliver of hope.
Hope is the most powerful “drug” there is, isn’t it? At the same time that it is easy to fall in love with it, it’s just as easy to grow angry with it. That’s normal. The waxing and waning of it all. Especially now.
As I look back on this pandemic year I am stunned. I pivoted six different ways for ten different reasons. I was everywhere from online teaching to ground zero. I was sick with this virus, I’ve had people tell me they hope I die from my vaccination. Well meaning friends have said “chin up…. there’s a vaccine” which is evidence that … you just don’t understand what front line workers have endured. Not at all. But there is no way to make someone understand. So onward we go.
Four things have given me purpose: family, being a nurse, writing, and movement. When we have purpose we have forward momentum. When we have that we keep putting one foot in front of the other.
No other time in my life have I been so proud to be a nurse, to work where I work, with the people I share my days with. In June I shifted back to full time clinical, I have finally found the balance between clinical practice, teaching, and life. All within 36 hours a week. Returning to clinical practice has healed me from one hell of an experience. I will tell that story in due time.
Had it not been for this pandemic I would have never discovered the mountains that have added to that balance and peace. I would have never learned so many things I am currently learning, and I would not have done so many of the things I have done. For me there has been a lot of good in the darkness, but there has been a lot of darkness.
That little sunbeam keeps catching my eye though. It keeps promising me that we are on the way out of this. While we are beaten down, crawling out of this, crawling is moving forward, and that is what we need to do.