Weary seems to be a word
I have used often recently. Between the medical issues and the people issues it’s
been overwhelming. It turns out loving
others means hurting right along with them, and lately, loving means it’s been
hard to catch my breath.
Part of me hesitates to
tell you any of this because there’s an innate compulsion within me that says,
“Buck up, Buttercup. No one wants to hear your woes.” And maybe you don’t.
Maybe you have enough to carry on your own, and if that’s the case, you don’t
have to be the one to pick mine up. As Parker Palmer writes,
“When we reach the
limits of our capacity to love, community means trusting that someone else will
be available to the person in need.”
But I also believe that
weakness is not something to be hidden. Sometimes the very best we have to
offer are the smallest morsels of ourselves. Our crumbs might be just the feast
someone needs to feel a little less alone.
So here I am—worn out
and weary—so I ask: “Please tell me something beautiful! Show me something
good.”
I don’t want positivity
for the sake of positivity, to smile and sprinkle confetti right into the
wounds. Glitter is cheap. But beauty? Beauty is resistance. It’s how we
punch back when life tries to kick us in the throat.
Because when I struggle
to see past all that threatens to come crashing down around me, I crave
beauty and goodness like I crave fresh air. I want to close my eyes and sip the
good stuff slowly like the fine wine I can rarely afford, not because beauty is
sparse or prone to disappearing but despite all this weariness, I need beauty
to stay afloat. Beauty is how I make it through.
And yet sometimes, dear
friends, the good things can be hard to see for ourselves.
Let’s share a little
goodness, shall we? Tell me something beautiful.
Tell me about…
…the kindness in a
stranger’s eyes.
…the daffodils already in bloom.
…the replica of Monet’s garden that hangs above your bed.
…the drawing of a squirrel your 6-year-old taped to the kitchen wall.
…the first warm day after a week of rain.
…the shiver you get when your husband kisses you after a business trip.
…the memory of your grandfather that lingers every time you unwrap a
peppermint.
…the favorite tree that’s beginning to bloom.
…the good sleep you got last night.
…the local coffee shop that feels like home.
The
weary among us want to know everything. We need to see the world through your
eyes for a moment. Please tell us something beautiful and good.

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