Jonathan said it best, "Damn, Baaba... I think The Universe owes you a break!"
Boy howdy. Last week I told Tonto, Laura and T-man that my new policy/mantra is "No More Damned Drama!" Seems said Universe is trying to make me eat my words, and wash 'em down with a largish glass of ... hell, something murky and unpalatable. Well, thank you so much, but I'm full already! It's been said that the stronger one is, the more one gets tested. I think I've proved that one already, but evidently I get the opportunity to prove it again (times 3). No quarter given.
I was talking to someone the other day about the "Beautiful Burdens" in my life. In the movie Freedomwriters, Hilary Swank is talking to Scott Glen (playing her father) about the efficacy of her role as a teacher to minority kids - whether she's making a difference or not and whether it's worth it or not. Glen replies, "You've been gifted with a beautiful burden, and I envy you that." It was an aha moment for me. It defined so much for me.
I've been blessed to have so many truly wonderful people grace my life - many of whom I've (physically) cared for, too many of whom I've had to say goodbye to. My Beautiful Burdens. Having not met them would have left an emptiness, I know it... a sort of wondering what had been missed. Conversely, having met them and shared their experiences has left my heart permanently scarred, changed... in the same way that the scarring of a deep wound will change the texture of skin. The wound heals, we move on, we work through the pain, but the reminder is always there.
Beautiful Burdens. I don't regret a moment, good or bad. If I have a regret, it's that I can't save everyone I care about. Instead of taking the bullet for them, I seem to be the one to arrive on the scene just after the shot has rung out. I get to show up in time to put pressure on the wound and say, oh so soothingly (for all the good it does), "I'm here."
My burden, my beautiful fucking burden. Glory be. Evidently I run so deep and so strong that I get to be here (as in: it's my purpose on this earth) to hold people through the shit-storms of life. I suppose I'm strong enough, and I fully appreciate the beauty, but, ohgod... the burden, the unyielding sorrow. I suppose that possessing a soul that has stretchmarks is a good thing, but really... E N O U G H already, just for a little while. Please? I say that, and yet... like the field medic, there's not a single person I'd refuse, much less think of ignoring.
I'll take it all. My Beautiful Burdens. Mine. It's what I've been given. I'll own it. I'll stand.