Consistently Inconsistent

The days are consistently inconsistent.  At least I have that to count on.  Loss shakes up all stability.  I find myself clutching to the hope that at some point I will find a routine again. 

It is notable how my ordinary days before seemed completely habitual to the point of monotonous.  My best friend reminded me back then that a mom must learn many times over the lesson to “die to self”.  I didn’t like that lesson all that much. 

Now, with all routines turned upside down as far from normal as we can get, I wish with every inch of me that I could take back just one of those everyday, usual, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary sort of days.  For now I know that not all “eventful” days are filled with good news.  And with my wish I would like to try again to die to myself and think for a moment of others.  This doesn’t mean I would become a doormat.  I don’t believe in self harm.   Rather, I would give up what is holding me back…a grudge, a jealousy, a lie, a piece of pride.  I would “live less selfishly and love more blindly” as a good friend of mine wrote to me so beautifully after Shawn died. 

I would see the value in the under-rated normalcy of a regular day.  And at the top of my list would be an appreciation for consistency.  Consistency keeps one steady.   Inconsistency adds to the tension of conflict.   I can rely on the constant, I grow leery of the unpredictability that tremendous change brings.  Even though change can transform, I am hesitant with my trust.

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