Thursday 8 February 2018

A SHOWER OF ROSES -no life is perfect.







Feeling sad today, indeed tears are trickling down my face. 





Photo manipulation done on photolab.


I could put up a front on here that everything is fine, but it isn’t. Those Christmas letters, blogs and social media posts where everything is always perfect, just make the rest of us feel inadequate, don’t they? There’s always a “behind the scenes” though. It may appear so, but no one’s life is perfect.

 How will I deal with the sadness? With prayer, as much as is needful, 








finding something to soothe the emotional pain -nothing illegal.  Addictive? I don’t know, maybe, anything can be addictive if it shuts down hurt, each to their own, and what they can afford:  food, beverages, cleaning, other work, socialising, counting money, herbal preparations, working out, TV, video games, shopping, Internet. 
I had a teenage patient once who was addicted to drinking water, I kid you not, he actually was drinking too much and was hospitalised. None of those things are bad in moderation, but they shouldn’t take over.

Normally, because I don’t work for a boss, I let things take their natural course at home, depending on what the problem is: crying, coughing, vomiting/diahorrea, laughing loudly. It’s good for the body to do what comes naturally in moderation, is better for the immune system.  However, I have this big party coming up soon, I have my homemaker duties, my functions as wife, Mother, caregiver, friend, to attend to, and my writing, a job that is currently making a loss in dollars, but I hope will be an earner.

Some of those roles are always difficult, for reasons outside my control. However, lately, the friend role has been making me sad, worried, tearful even. It seems that in several situations there I’m nothing but an onlooker now. It makes me so sad when I can’t help several people anymore, and have to watch helplessly from the sidelines, knowing that my skills and qualified expertise are rejected. When they are friends I’ve loved, several loved gently, another quite fiercely, it is quite painful for me. 








Helping and healing are in my DNA. My mother was a nurse, and I too was a health professional, no less so when I had to leave the workforce to be an unpaid caregiver and therapist for disabled family members. I even had to give up my home based business because of one child’s ADHD (now grown, moved on, and I will say it, unappreciative.)


How do I feel about that? Pretty numb, actually. Angry, that the governments here over the years allowed such a waste of caregivers’ talents taken out of the workforce , because they wasted so much money instead of finding cures. Then numb because the anger has nowhere to go, except for signing petitions. If you’ve ever been a caregiver, you know what I mean. 








Stoicism creeps in, you just have to get on with it, clean up that mess, talk yourself through the numbness, one step at a time in the fog, and try to remember what your mother said - have a nice cup of tea, have you had your breakfast? Wash your face with cold water. Take that short term panacea. Smell the roses. Pray.










Will I stop loving people, and thus avoid getting hurt? No, and no one should. Give up on my humdrum responsibilities? St Thérèse of Lisieux taught us that putting love into all our tasks, no matter how menial or boring, is honourable. 







I knew a lady, online, called Ali, who was going through suffering while slowly dying. She touched the hearts of many people through the love and care she showed others at that time, with a great sense of humour. It was a living example to me, that you could be more loving online if you had courage, that it might help someone. St Thérèse said she would send “a shower of roses” when she died. 







It’s hot and windy outside today, bushfire weather, I call it.







Ali said she would send glitter down to her friends. Both did send a blessing, to all of us, the example to “power on through” with grace, and love for others.






 Interestingly, both had severe breathing disorders.


 “Do it to the best of your ability” is the secular catchcry, and the admirable Protestant work ethic. St Thérèse wasn’t paid, she was a nun. In the future, that is going to be the norm for most people, thanks to robots and artificial intelligence making most human paid jobs redundant. I call this a disaster, others say inevitable. (The Celtic warrior in me says to fight it. ) Perhaps works of unpaid community service will become mainstream, to fill in time. 







I hope that me writing this post helps someone today.



Littleflower.org


Please sign the petition


2 comments:

Pam Richardson said...

It is so nice to meet you. What a wonderful post with lots to think about! Thanks for visiting with me...it is a long way from Australia to Alabama! Blessings~

Running on empty said...

Blessings to you too, Pam, I love your house and blog!