Whilst I know it is incorrect to have a moment's schadenfreude (taking pleasure in somebody else's misfortune), I do sincerely hope that this will be a wake up call to all those 'cheerleaders' out there to remind them that sometimes there are considerations that deserve greater thought than simply waving around the pom-poms.
Obviously it takes a tad more than 'just soul'.
January 20, 2008 – The two weeks since limping back into Steinhatchee have been difficult and felt a whole lot more like months than days. I received an email, among hundreds of emails, a week or so ago which said it was time for me to resurface. It wasn’t - at least not for me. It still doesn’t feel like it is, but I owe it to you.
The injury to my hand remains painful and was more serious than I imagined (yes, Ross, I went to an orthopedic surgeon). I am now trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, wrapped in a splint and immobilized up to my wrist. I will be wearing it for another six weeks, to be followed by six weeks of physical therapy twice a week. By the time I am cleared by the surgeon I will have missed my departure weather window for the year. And Dad, whose health has not improved, but who will support me in whatever I undertake, does not want me to go back out again.
Without subjecting you to the full extent of my recent maudlin musings (I wouldn’t do that to you) it is not possible to describe what these days have been like in my head and heart. I have put everything I had into this endeavor, and put behind me everything we think of as intrinsic to a “normal” in life. Abruptly, the dream was shelved and I no longer had home, car, income, personal belongings, or plan. For a while I felt paralyzed, like I’d had the wind knocked out of my lungs. Devastated. Lost. Alone. Irresolute. Hurting. Tired.
But, as Dad would say, “Happiness is a choice.” And I have picked myself up now, and gotten my head back together and my attitude straight (which took some doing). Though I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it yet, I have finally admitted to myself that I need to unpack the boat. But I still have no clue what I’m going to do next, or what the coming year will hold.
Strangely enough, now that I’m getting over the blow, not having all of those “normal life” things and responsibilities is actually somewhat liberating. I feel as if I have a blank canvas spread before me on which to paint my next rainbow, and I’m excited again about tomorrow. I’ve been working full-time since I was 15, and I’m about ready for a sabbatical. I think I may pilfer the sailing kitty and do a little bit of traveling on the cheap over the summer. I have enough airline points for a free ticket to pretty much anywhere. Maybe
Life has never turned out like I hoped or believed it would. “Things rarely go according to one’s youthful, heroic master plan.” But never will I be without things for which to be thankful; every day, every moment, is truly what you make it. Dreams, though sometimes elusive and subject to change, are the stuff of which life is made - what a drudgery it would be without them!
Thank you for being with me along the way.