Often, thriving in my own life doesn’t exactly resemble the dictionary definition: to prosper; be fortunate or successful, to grow or develop vigorously; flourish.
Thriving in my life feels more like a teenager learning to drive. It resembles a series of abrupt starts and stops, tummy turning twists and turns, sprinkled with a shit ton of unpredictability.
I am hoping for the best (getting out of the car unscathed), but prepared for the worst (a fiery crash is a real possibility). And so I am extremely relieved when the car comes to a stop, and all is well (true story, with 3 teenage drivers in the house :)
But life doesn’t exactly lay out all these lessons to help us “flourish” nice and neat like.
How do we thrive while working (in a job we love or don't), while we are connecting in our relationships (with a spouse, child(ren), friends, animals), and regularly practicing self care (exercising, meditating, getting enough rest, eating healthy).
How do we truly thrive, when so often we are gulping for the very next breath of air? The times when we don’t feel like we are “growing”, but merely enduring?
Well, I have learned that thriving means asking for help. Not something that comes naturally or innately to me. Because I. Can. Get. It. All. Done. By. My. Self. No Michelle, you can't. It's okay, and such a godsend to accept this truth.
Thriving means falling back into uncertainty because I know it’s time to grow...like leaving a job I love, to grow my own business. It both excites and terrifies me.
Thriving sounds like admitting I don’t know what the hell I am doing as a parent, as I standby feeling completely inadequate, as one or more of my children is suffering. (insert asking for help, here). Thus, sometimes thriving means letting sorrowful tears flow down my face as a release while I am alone in the car, or shower, or on the trail.
Thriving means getting down on the floor with Bo to stroke his soft black ears. Although his doggie breath is enough to kill me...the dishes, laundry, and sweeping can wait. The beast brings me peace.
Thriving means making my bed even when I don’t feel like it because I love pulling the covers back after a long day, and knowing my 4 inch memory foam awaits me. And while we are on this topic, thriving means recognizing I'm worth the FOUR inch memory foam mattress topper (vs the 2-3 inch imposters).
Thriving means calling in reinforcements, like a dear Priest friend of ours at San Damiano, and asking him to pray over me. As he walks me through a guided meditation, my fists start to unclench, my jaw softens, and I remember for the first time in a long time, I am not forgotten. God's presence, like warm honey, envelops and comforts me. (I'll give you his number...)
Thriving means being quiet when things get loud, so I can listen to the whispers.
Despite circumstance, when we thrive, we catch glimpses of wonder as life pushes us forward, and curiosity as it pulls us back, ready to “grow us vigorously”.
When things get tricky and unpredictable, other trusted souls will keep us steady. During the loss of a loved one, severe depression, or unexpected injury, these kindreds will give us sure footing.
Whether it be by simply listening, crying with us, or making us double over with laughter because we are tired of the alternative.
And when you think about it, all of this prospering, being fortunate or successful, growing or developing vigorously, and flourishing
is a lot of work!So go ahead and take a nap...it means you're thriving, dear friend!
