Swimming in the Shadows

Love in the Time of Corona #4

There is light in the darkness. I have to remember that, or I'll go as crazy as the world has gone.

But there are shadows, too. 

The unkind word from a friend. The news of racist attacks on neighbors who look Asian. The lies and self-dealing from people we trusted to lead us. Americans buying up all the ammunition they can find. The rules that seem to change from hour to hour.

And then there are the things that are not part of my life, but that I know my friends are living with.

Life in a house full of kids you love that still feels like a cage sometimes. Long shifts at the hospital, not knowing when things are going to blow up. Having to not and take it when some customer lays into you about shortages, when you just spent 10 hours trying to keep shelves stocked. Handling checks and currency  and mail from customers and wondering where those pieces of paper have been and who coughed on them before sliding them across your counter.

Yes. There are shadows.

And I'm sorry, but I don't have a bumper-sticker slogan to make them go away. 

But I do have a strategy. Find a purpose. Choose a direction. And start swimming.

I teach adults to swim at the Y. I'm not a very good teacher, but the people who come to me are so determined and courageous that my shortcomings can't hold them back. Some of them have been afraid of the water for 20, 30, 40 years. Some longer. It is an honor to be present when a 70 year old discovers that she can tread water for the first time in her life or a retire veteran learns that he can swim again after losing his legs. It fills me with awe. I can't imagine the courage it takes to overcome a lifetime of fear. My students inspire me to find the courage to keep trying. And with God's help, I try to pass that courage on.

When the shadows fall across your path, and they will, open your arms, pick them up, and carry them with you for a while. Trust that when it's time to put them down again, you'll know. The Buddha said that suffering is a part of life. Jesus said that we need to be willing to take up a cross and drink the cup from which he drank. 

When we try to escape our suffering, we deny life. That's what addiction is. "Just give me something to make the hurting stop." But it doesn't stop. It's always there.

My friend Art, a cancer survivor of inexhaustible good humor and courage once told me, "I knew I could get up and live or else lay down and die. So I got up." (He used to deny that story, but my memory is clear and even if I did make it up, it's so much like something he would say that I feel fine about quoting him on it.)

No matter how loudly you sing Kumbaya, the shadows will come. Let them come. 

They will break your heart. Let it break.

Your friends will turn crazy and angry and mean. Let them turn.

Open your heart. Catch them up in your arms. Carry them along.

Be afraid. You'd be insane not to. Just don't let your fear pull you under. Just keep swimming.

Swim for the light. Reflect it when you can. And when fear and anger darken the water, swim in the shadows. 

Be the one who helps people find their own courage. Don't worry about what a lousy teacher you are. Trust that they have it in them to be brave, too. Be the one who shows the way.

Find a way to live, even when it hurts. Find a chance to love, even when your heart is broken. Find a way to give when you feel empty. Find the humility to receive grace when you know you don't deserve it. 

But for God's sake, keep swimming.