Sharing our lives

My dear friend posted on her blog about the importance of sharing our stories. Sometimes our stories don't seem important, or seem trivial in light of another's suffering, but our stories all have a purpose.

This same friend and I talked last week about the agreements we have made with those in our life. We were talking about those agreements made in another place, another time, before we incarnated on this earth. I believe that there are no accidental meetings, no unimportant conversations, no unnecessary moments.

To be human is hard. As spiritual beings, without our humanity which incumbers us, we know what our task is. We know what we came here to do. We know the agreements we made with those we are travelling through this life with. Sometimes we forget. Sometimes we don't understand why we have to go through the things we do. Sometimes we lose faith that there is a grand plan, and likely it is a plan that we ourselves envisioned. Sometimes it is too hard.

But, usually and often it isn't. We still get up in the morning. We still put our feet on the floor and head to the kitchen to put on the coffee. We call on friends to help us, and sometimes our friends call on us to check in, and check up.

There have been times when I have been in great despair and not known where to turn. There were those days when the only good thing I could say about waking up is that in 12 or 14 hours I could come back to bed. There were days when I sat at the kitchen table, looking out through the trees and wept. There were days when depression would wrap me so deeply I couldn't find a speck of comfort.

But, on those days people reached out to me. My daughter. My husband. My sister. My dear friend. They wouldn't let me drown in my despair. They made tea. They took me out for coffee. They started a campfire for me. They listened, and then they acted. They were all brave for me on those days I couldn't be brave.

We all have tragedies in our lives. But, if we had the choice would we trade our lives, our bundle of sorrows, for another? We know, I know, that I can bear my life. I don't know if I can bear another's.

Last week when I told my friend, "you are amazing, I don't think I could get out of bed if I had to bear your loss", she just listened. She simply said: I don't know how another would react to this. I just know that this is how I am reacting.

Because what else is there to do?

What else is there to do?

Give thanks for small miracles. Know that the answer will come if we ask the universe the question. The answer will come.

So, what question did I need answered recently? I received a cheque for $147.56. It was an inheritance. I should buy myself something nice in honour of my aunt I thought. Something I could wear in her memory. Earrings? A bracelet? A pendant? But there wasn't anything I really wanted.

But I knew what she would want. So, I made out a cheque to Covenant House, one of her favourite charities. Ir seemed fitting to do something for someone else. It was what she would have done. She would be brave when someone else couldn't be.