For the past two weeks, I found myself on the other side of heavy conversations.
I listened to people I care about tell me about overwhelming work demands, broken relationships, and the news that they will soon be coming to the end of their life. I sat in coffee shops and hospital rooms; I stood in my kitchen and paced around while on my cell phone; I consoled another friend thousands of miles away.
Sometimes there is no solution to the things that make people despair. There is no five step program, or meditation class. The cliché that time heals all wounds, isn't even appropriate when time is a thing of desire.
But life does not stop when you are cloudy. You have to continue to show up; you have to find joy in the mundane. I found it in an overindulgent birthday dinner with my oldest friends; at Sunday lunch with my Dad, who then spent his afternoon hanging up all of my picture frames, and watching Little blow out four birthday candles, while shielding his face with his tiny arm because he was embarrassed.
On the weekend, I am always grateful for the onslaught of sunshine that dances through my apartment windows. It is the only thing I ever ask to smack me in the face.