As I look out the window—the view from which has become a gift—and see the sidewalks that connect to the places I remember, I feel torn. Though I long for what seems like a life of recklessness now—the impulse runs to the store, the whims of seeing friends—I also feel a tug inside that clings to what I’ve found here, tucked in these weeks. ⠀
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I don’t think I can just “go back to normal.” I’ve changed. Do you feel it too?⠀
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I remember at the beginning of our “stay at home” mandate, I felt tempted to hold anxiety tightly, as if I was clinging to milk and eggs. But, as time goes on, I feel differently. Less anxiety, more understanding. As with any hard thing that opens up to other side, I’m seeing that when we emerge, we will bring new, fought-for perspectives and unanticipated wisdom. ⠀
This quarantine is a chrysalis. ⠀
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While I’ve grown accustomed to the rooms within these walls, I’ve visited new places in the depths of my heart and mind. I’ve felt new aches and learned new truths that will need room to expand when we can take these sidewalks further.⠀
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Even in this hard, beauty is being formed. ⠀
Even with the tears, something new is taking shape. A different that is better. ⠀
Even in the uncertainty, heart connections and hope conversations anchor me, as they reveal truth and goodness. ⠀
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There are changes taking place inside. Let’s not rush this part of the story. Let’s collect the tears, let’s lament the pain, and then, when the doors open, let’s examine the beauty that has taken root in the hard. Let’s remember what we’ve learned of ourselves, of each other. ⠀
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What beauty has pushed through the dirt?⠀
What wings are growing, ready to take flight? ⠀
Read the rest at The Joyful Life Magazine.
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