Sometimes I feel like a turtle on its back, struggling to get back on its feet. This feeling is new to me. I think a number of things contribute to it: a different stage of life, wondering how to best live into my various roles, living alone, and fear of the future. There have been days when I just don’t feel like myself. Times when, even for this emotive being, the emotions hit out of nowhere, and hit hard.
The road to having my turtle shell facing the sun again started to feel a little easier in October. I got a lot of sleep. I have been eating protein like it is my job. My two-litre water bottle is getting drained, sometimes more than once a day. But I think, more than anything, my awareness of what is right in front of me has become heightened. While praying during a drive, I was reminded that I don’t need to anticipate everything that might happen at The Dale or at home. I don’t need to figure it all out in advance. I can simply try to take the next best step.
And the next step, in nearly everything, has been to pause and give thanks. This doesn’t mean that I am ignoring the hard or pretending that everything is fine. It means that I am desperately trying to live into the ever-present tension of joy and sorrow in my life. To recognize that both can be true, sometimes in the very same moment.
And so, as October comes to a close, I want to share some of what I am grateful for this past month.
Because our house is accessible, I have hosted family gatherings for a very long time. Recently, my brother and his family refreshed their backyard, which included eliminating a step. This meant they could invite us over on Thanksgiving Monday. The weather, the meal, and the company were all beautiful. There was something very meaningful about being welcomed into a space that had been made accessible to us.
Another Story Day happened on October 21st. At one point, after stepping out to speak with the caterers, I re-entered the room and was struck by the buzz of conversation and connection. I paused for a moment to breathe it all in, giving thanks for everyone gathered. So many people, each with their own story, making room for one another.
Someone in Parkdale found a quarter and, instead of keeping it, donated it to The Dale. This small act reminded me of all the times we have had just enough because of tiny gifts that are actually huge. I am continually moved by the generosity of people who give from what they have, however much or little that might be.
We went on a retreat with a group of community members to Camp Crossroads. For some, the experience was full of firsts: the first time on a school bus (our mode of transportation), the first time roasting a marshmallow and making a s’more, the first time travelling north of the city. Experiencing their awe increased my own. There is something wonderful about seeing familiar things through someone else’s eyes and being reminded that there is still so much to marvel at.
None of these moments has made the harder things disappear. There are still questions I don’t have answers to, emotions that catch me off guard, and days when I feel a little upside down. But October has reminded me that gratitude doesn’t require everything to be okay. It asks me to notice what is good, even when life feels uncertain. And perhaps, for now, that is enough. I don’t need to know how everything will unfold. I can give thanks for what is right in front of me, take the next best step, and trust that, little by little, this turtle will find its feet again, with its shell facing the sun.
