My life is in complete chaos. All of my careful plans for late summer were shot to hell two weeks ago, when my daughter came down with a mysterious illness in California.
When we returned to Austin, we visited the pediatrician three times before we finally took Shira to the hospital with a 103 degree fever and back pain. Even at the hospital, it took several days to finally diagnose her with salmonella and then test for an antibiotic that wasn’t resistant to the particular strain.
It was, to say the least, an ordeal.
Shira is recovering now at home, but she was unable to attend her invitation-only music camp last week or visit her buddies from OCD Con in Baltimore. My husband and I have been on duty round the clock for two weeks, rotating shifts for rest and self-care.
I’ve had no time to write or work on my business.
I am lost.
Yesterday, Steve and I met with our parenting coach, who told us that when we first came to see her, she couldn’t believe what we had on our plates, but that hearing about this last episode made her want to fall down and collapse.
Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to see your situation for what it is. It’s not that we don’t feel exhausted or depleted. But we’ve been running around with band-aids for so long, we forget that this is not normal.
But I’m not here to complain. I am well aware of our privilege. Spending a week in the hospital is a reminder the cost of quality healthcare. And we were fortunate to be at the extraordinary Dell Children’s Medical Center in Austin, all covered by our insurance.
I honestly didn’t think I would be able to get together a post for this week, and spent some time scrolling through old posts to see what might be relevant to repost for y’all. It was fun finding bits of wisdom that passed through me over the years while writing.
Who wrote those things?
Certainly not me and my little ego.
As I was skimming, I came upon these words from a post on uncertainty that feel useful to my life right now. I hope they serve you, wherever you are on your art/life journey.
Sometimes we are are lost and and it helps to admit we don’t know what to do.
We don’t have to have all the answers or get it right all the time. Although, ironically, when we stop struggling and striving, when we throw up our hands and say, “I have no idea what to do,” an answer is more likely to come.
The land of I don’t know is a land of spaciousness. It is a still and silent place where we listen rather than act. I’m trying to live more in that place — as writer, as a parent, and as a mentor. I invite you to join me. We have plenty of room.
I’ll be living in the land of “I don’t know” for a while. While I may feel lost, I don’t exist in a void or without navigation tools. I have my daily writing practice to anchor me, meditation practice to get comfortable with the emptiness, and yoga nidra for deep rest.