Life goes on.
This is no insipid comment; it is a warning. Life goes on.
This summer, I was laser-focused on my Jessica, living with her every moment she had left, striving not to miss a single second of her presence, then saying goodbye as she elegantly and beautifully escaped all things that could hurt her. I was virtually unaware of anything outside her hospital room. Then, Jessica died, and I was thrust back into the maelstrom that is daily living.
Nothing had waited for me. My friend’s baby daughter had learned to run. My flowers had bloomed and set seed. The neighborhood kids had returned to college. I was disoriented; it was hard for me to find my way. My life had grown thick with the weeds and rambling tendrils of untended relationships and ignored passions. I was in the wilderness.
This weekend, as I was working to reclaim my beloved but overgrown flower beds, it occurred to me that I could clear my emotional wilderness the same way. Determine what’s good and what’s bad, then promptly excise the bad and tend carefully to the good that remains. If I clear the strangling, unpleasant, ungainly relationships from my life, there will be room and time to nurture the true and beautiful friendships that make life sweet and full. It is time for me to clear my wilderness.