It meant that I laid my head on a friend’s lap in recalling nightmares I had just hours before in my sleep.
It meant walking away from a commitment to find rest for my body and an intentional restart on my day.
It meant staying in a space despite racism and harsh triggers.
It meant learning to take a compliment and also granting myself an end to internal criticism when I was maybe over confident and wanted to take words back.
It meant accepting that I could not comfort all who grieved or encourage all who felt lonely or frustrated–but the ones I could, I did. The ones I couldn’t, I whispered a prayer for.
It meant feeling the hurt and hearing the voices of others. It demanded advocacy for change.
It meant wanting marriages, partnerships, and families to carry less strife and trial.
It meant taking the joys and wins of the day and letting them put air into my step and refill for my outpour.
It meant proffering service to local community and demonstrating gratitude to places that fight for justice and mercy.
It meant not taking to labels nor ignoring them either. Refusing to crumble in fear, but honestly not rising to potential in every moment either.
It meant celebrating young people, respecting elders, fighting demons, and holding my sons.
It was a day. Much like many days.
Not so unlike yours.
As you navigated your employer, your past, your obligations, and your irritations…
As you met your family, lived your faith, found your policy, saw your community…
As you exchanged the emails, listened to your therapist, walked with the co-worker, and visited the medical provider…
As you journaled your story, read wisdom from others, found a crowd to stand with or a corner to be alone in…
As you reacted to politics, started an application, thanked the store clerk, or looked in the mirror…
A day–no so unlike yours.
A thousand choices, a hundred chances, 10 seconds to move to action and moments to reflect quietly on being wounded or being a warrior as life swirls around.
The wind blows strong here in Minnesota tonight.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Do the one day in front of you.
Not a post as much about me as the title and words’ surface convey.
More or less the truth that life–it’s here.
Let’s live it, foibles and fortitude both–do another day, fellow sojourner, do another day.