I have been feeling kind of cruddy lately. A near miss on one of my biggest 30-Before-30 goals has my confidence down in the dumps. Things have flared up again with my back now that the final steroid injection has worn off and I am learning that when you are physically taxed and hurting, it is hard to be cheery and optimistic. I am trying very hard, remembering that our thoughts become our reality, but falling into bed at 6:30pm each night out of exhaustion and pain is not exactly inspiring or uplifting. I will soon have an appointment with a surgeon to explore more drastic options, and strangely this is a pilot light in a gloomy week. It's strange to think the words "It's time to move on to a surgical referral" would be the highlight of one's week, but here I am. I don't feel like myself anymore in the physical sense and that disconnected feeling starts to work its way into other areas of life. I'm over being in pain, over such limited physical activity, over being tired from simply showering and changing my clothes. I'm ready to be 28 next week and I'm hopeful to feel 28 soon.
These darker times in life are when I am reminded of a Leonard Cohen quote:
"There is a crack in everything; that's how the light gets in."
I came upon one of those cracks today. I like to think of those cracks as little reminders, things that bring you back to yourself in darker times, little glimmers of hope that remind you how it was or how it could and will be.
I was browsing Pinterest today while I sucked down some Kombucha (good god, $3.50 per bottle is going to interfere with my retirement... I am investing in bottling my own soon) and a bag of roasted pumpkin seeds for lunch, and I came across a board of, despite distance and time, one of my best friends. This is someone whose style I admire, whose fearlessness I envy, whose presence I miss on a daily basis. A friend who could walk in this room 20 minutes from now or 20 years from now and our friendship and conversation would pick up as if I talked to her this morning.
She had labeled a board "All Things Bobbi", a collection of quotes. I smiled, and was startled when my eyes filled up with tears at my desk. One of those moments where you kind of choke on life because there, right in front of you, is the thing you've been looking for but didn't know you needed.
At a time when I feel far away from myself in the physical sense (good god, I would give anything to walk my dog today), I needed a feel-good reminder of who I am in general.
This was one of the pins:
How fitting. I don't even remember pinning it, but how wonderful and timely.
I don't think I could have articulated it, but I think part of me has always strived for people to say "That's such a Bobbi thing" when they see something that reminds them of me. When I first realized that today after my Pinteresting lunch break, I thought "Bobbi, how vain", but then I realized that the reason I smiled when my friend Eric walked into my navy dining room and said, "This is such a Bobbi color" is that in a world where we are constantly communicating, we desire to be heard, and we hope to be understood, and it is a relief to be known. On a rare day, I am lucky enough to be able to do this with my writing, but on an average day, that is the very core desire of my soul, and something I struggle with very much.
I've been standing in the storm for months and months, and the wind has tossed me about. Thank you, Jax, for reminding me that I have a sail, and it is all shades of purple, covered with quotes about life, and I can adjust that sail in a way that is uniquely me. And I will reach my destination.
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