What I have

I've spent a long time thinking about what I don't have. Thinking about the things that other people have. The things that I want. And it has made me miserable. It has made me jealous. It has made me bitter. It has made me insecure. And it has made me lonely. 

I think I got myself stuck in a pit. As I thought about the things I didn't have, I began to dig a 'Pity Me' Pit. 

When someone else got what I didn't have, 
      I would dig a little deeper. 
                   When I waited patiently for what I didn't have, 
                          I would dig as I waited. 
                                       When I came closer to what I didn't have, 
                                          only for it to disappear further out of reach, 
                                                I would put my energy into digging. 

Eventually, without noticing it, I had dug down to a dark place with high walls, that were too hard to climb, so I sat in the dark and stewed.

Where did that get me? 

Absolutely nowhere worth going.

I'm not sure what it was that turned me around. It wasn't a bolt of lightning, it wasn't a blinding light, it wasn't a slap around the face.

Yesterday was my birthday and that's what made me think about this change. I've had a few birthdays over the years and I can clearly remember days when I've thought - "I didn't get a birthday text from that person", "that person forgot", "I thought I would at least get a card from them". 

What a miserable way to think. 

Did I ever really think that line of thought got me anywhere? Anywhere other than the Pity Me Pit.

So yesterday, I looked at What I Have. And the conclusion I came to...

...flippin' heck, does my cup overflow?

I had breakfast and lunch bought for me. All day, I got texts and messages from people wishing me a good day. I worked all day in a job that I enjoy with better colleagues than I ever could have hoped for. I spent some time with some amazing people who have been creeping into my life and I think I haven't even noticed them till now, because I had been so focussed on what I didn't have. 

I don't want to go back to the pit. It's dark there. 

I am blessed...abundantly blessed. 

If only it hadn't taken me so long to realise it.

When the story moves down the page...

This is probably a big no-no for writing, but as I start this post, I'm not really sure where I'm going with it. I just know that I have something niggling away at me and I hope that by writing about it, maybe I'll be able to process it.

A couple of days ago, I saw the news that Jordan Taurima had been killed in a mining accident in Australia. Jordan played for Hautapu, the rugby club I work with. I didn't know him well; I strapped him up a couple of times, but I'm feeling the essence of the tragedy.

This morning, I went onto one of the news websites and the first thing I saw was Jordan's smiling face. As the day went on, I looked at the site a couple more times and each time I noticed that a story that started as a headline moved further and further down the page. 
A few hours later, it was pretty hard to find.

I know that's the media; that's how it works, but it stirred something that just made me uneasy.

It made me think back over the last few years to times when I've wondered if the ache ever goes away. And not just my own ache. I've watched friends who have lost husbands, fathers, brothers and I've wondered how they could possibly cope. I think those looking in from the outside expect that the first few days will be the worst - the days when the tragedy is sinking in and the grief is overwhelming. But you know, I think the stage after that is probably worse 

           the time when the funeral is over
                          when everyone carries on with their lives
                                                 when things continue as normal.

                                       When the story moves further down the page. 

Because sometimes, things are so big, that it takes much more than a few days to deal with it. Grief doesn't go away just because you've said your goodbyes, you've accepted the disappointment, you've tried to see what the future will look like. 

And that's what's been niggling away at me today...and I don't really know how to process this. What am I trying to say? That we need to be more sympathetic with people for a longer time? No, I don't think that's it. That we should hold on and stay in the grieving period and accept that it's never going to get better? That's not it either. Life goes on? That's definitely not my point.

I think I just struggle with the times when the story has moved down the page and you keep trying to look for it, trying to bring it to mind, trying to think of the memories, feeling guilty if you can't see the smiling picture for a moment.

Maybe my point is just that it's difficult, that going through the stages of grief is necessary but it's tough and no one looking in on you really understands. No one can tell you how you should feel. 

I guess the thing I really want to say is that those of you who really knew Jordan, I hope you can and will see light and hope, that you will know that when his story moves further down the page, he won't be forgotten, that while his death will be mourned, his life will be celebrated.

Here's that smile