Carry(ing) On

Someone recently shared a meme with me. It showed a heart walking along the road carrying a big burden labeled, “past trauma.”

As the heart walked along, other things started attaching themselves to the burden the heart was carrying. Stress, pandemic, bad news, etc. The heart, being strong, continued on its journey, bravely carrying all of the added weight.

Until it reached a crack in the sidewalk that was labeled, “minor inconvenience.”

At this, the heart breaks down completely, collapsing into tears. And the brain shows up, saying, “I think you’re overreacting.”

This image is so spot on that, when I shared it with others, they all just nodded in agreement and mumbled a tearful, “yup.”

My heart has proven itself to be mighty and resilient. It has carried so much loss, grief, sadness, disappointment….And yet, this precious heart always wakes me up every morning to start the new day with Gratitude and Possibility.

What continually fascinates me about my heart — and me — in relation to the cartoon is that I can tread water through the toughest of moments. Through chaos and overextending myself, schedules and demands and pain and all — I mean, ALL — of what life can bring, and we (me and my heart) can handle all of that.

And then, the sink will clog. Or the WiFi will go out. Or something else will happen that should not be a big deal. A paper cut. A knocked-over glass of water.

This is when I will collapse. This is when life becomes too hard, too much. This is when the depression yells, “SCORE! I win!! Look at her go down the rabbit hole!”

Suddenly, nothing is going right. Everything is wrong. Every extreme thought, every distorted perception, every little thing that is negative comes right up into focus. And down I go.

The thing is, those things are nothing compared with the death of a friend. Or the continuous chronic pain my body experiences. Or the death of over 400,000 people. Or the huge problems of racism and hate and whatever fill-in-the-blank-phobia is dominating the news cycle.

All of those things, I can handle. I can carry those. The big things. Because those are just part-and-parcel of my life as a minister. My role models before me carried those — and bigger — things and they continued to do the Important Work.

So, like that cartoon, I can carry my past, I can carry the depression and the pain, I can carry the weight of the world.

Until the sink clogs. Until the spider appears on the wall. Until the loud car next door shakes my windows.

In those moments, the world is just too darn mean and harsh for me to deal with. And I curl up into a ball and cry and wonder how I will ever stand up again.

I give myself time to have that moment. To believe it’s all too much. I even will say, out loud, “NOTHING should be this hard!” about the silliest of things.

And then, I think, “Ok, Rachel. What are you Grateful for? Right now? Name it.”

I will reach out and feel my dog, Maddie, saying, “I am Grateful for Maddie.”

Feeling the bed beneath me, “I am Grateful for this bed.”

Opening my eyes, slowly, “I am Grateful for where I live. For the window that opens. For the breeze blowing in.”

Inhaling a deep breath, “I am Grateful I can breathe. I am Grateful for the strength of this body to be able to tolerate pain and still move. I am Grateful for a cup of cool water with ice cubes in it.”

I stand up. Picking up whatever burdens I need to carry. And, with my strong heart, we continue to walk.

Again.