A huge part of
my current mid-life awakening is to address this part of me that is stoic –
this part of me that is an emotional idiot.
It is one thing to know what emotions belong into each situation and
then to act accordingly, but it is another to actually feel these emotions with reckless abandon. I was/am tired of pretending my way through
emotions. Tired of only experiencing the
surface of what this emotional life has to offer. I was/am ready for the fullness of what my
mind, body, spirit and emotional life has to offer.
To feel to the
depths requires trust. Trust that if I
feel, I will not get hurt. Trust that I
can stay safe despite what emotional state I am encountering. Trust that rage and despair will not choke
the life out of me. At age 40, I am trusting
this process; trusting the journey that my emotional life has to offer. Yes, I am feeling old grief and it
sucks. But on the flip side, the ups are
becoming just as high as the depths, and this ride is nothing shy of fantastic.
I just came off
three nights working in the ER. This
time of year, we have an increased level of acuity (those who do come in are
really sick) and increased numbers of those in a psychological crisis. This creates a new type of stress in hospital
ER life. Historically I have coped with this
increased stress by putting on my big girl panties, sucking it up, and plowing
through. Get the job done – focus on the
task at hand, help your coworkers with their task, and then go home and
crash. Once my run of shifts was over,
it was time to really kick back with alcohol and mute the stress. But something is shifting. I have not had an alcoholic beverage in over
a month, I journal instead of avoiding my feelings, drink tea and read good books. In other words, I have created space to reflect
and feed my soul rather than sucking it up and running on empty.
And here is
the return of this investment: I am feeling joy, excitement, compassion . . .
really feeling from the depths of my being.
This weekend,
in between caring for ill patients, I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks
and my stomach hurt from all the jiggling.
I cannot recall the last time I lost myself in the joy of the moment –
it has been far too long. And through
this laughter, the bonds with my fellow ER nurses grew deeper. We were knee deep in incontinent patients and
holding down patients who were spitting at us and screaming with wild eyes, and
we needed to trust one another. I had to
trust that this team not only had my back in those moments, but then after the
situation dies down and the coping mechanisms take over. When I take the attitude of “suck it up, this
is the job” I isolate myself from the shared coping; isolate from the community
of caring. This weekend, the coping was reckless
laughter, high fives, practical jokes, and pats on the back. I am blessed to be able to share my life with
this community of hard-working nurses.
While my
ability to laugh until tears is an amazing gift, I am noticing a growing depth
of compassion that is pouring forth more naturally. Now I find myself looking into the eyes of a
scared schizophrenic and trying to provide reassurance and singing with a demented
woman in attempts to calm and distract her as I place an IV. A few months ago, I may have engaged in such
acts, but now it is coming with more ease and comfort. It no longer feels like an attempt to do the right act of compassion but
rather a shift to be a comforting
presence.
This ride and
the company I am traveling with is such a blessing.
Love you. Love your heart. Love being able to watch you journey from afar.
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