It’s January 31!
In the early spring of cold regions, along the shores of lakes and rivers big and small, we can expect to see the ice melt and finally whither away as the days warm. Sometimes, these events are slow, and one barely notices as still, dull grays and whites morph back to dancing ripples and waves. Other years, great chunks and sheets of ice heave and buck into great piles that stack up on the shore. In those years, the body of water looks more like oatmeal than liquid at times.
We go from a seemingly stagnant state to a far more active one as we transition from winter to spring.
I can relate. I wonder if you can, as well?
Sometimes, our lives feel frozen.
I haven’t written about diabetes lately. I have an entire book sitting on my desk on the very subject. I triumphantly finished that first draft in September, and while I have been editing it on and off, it’s been slow. It has always been my intention to open it up to artists with diabetes for illustrating it, and finding a strong venue to publish it, but I have not actively pursued that, either. (If you know of anyone, or would like to get involved with this project, please message me!)
Changes to my healthcare have been frozen, as well. I started to look into a continuous glucose monitoring (CGM) device in the middle of last year. The layers of bureaucracy, procedural stumbles and ever-present long-range scheduling of appointments left me without final decisions and a depressed spirit as a new calendar (and insurance) year loomed. I admit it: I gave up. For now. When another large and uncalculated for expense looms in your family’s budget (this one’s over $2,600 just for the initial device), it’s easier to stick with the status quo.
Fortunately, nothing stays the same forever. If we’re locked and frozen today, tomorrow we may get to experience the warm breath of a springtime melt.
Sometimes, our transitions are smooth. Other times, they heave and chunk first.
I have a list of things I should do that I feel I can actually start to attack now. I’ve run into walls as I’ve explored leads. I’ve found new contacts. I’ve received encouragements as well as reality checks. Transition- melting and morphing- can be an extremely agitating time, can’t it?
I may not have achieved my initial goal of a CGM, but my own care of my health has become better once again. Perhaps the very act of attempting is what was important in this case. Have you ever found an unexpected good or growth from a disappointment? That’s growth mindset (a great video there, by Sprouts, by the way. Check it out!)
Always, we deserve to hope for that melt.
Today, I stumbled across an African proverb on Twitter posted by Afreeque:
“Le soleil n'ignore pas un village parce qu’il est petit.”
The sun doesn’t ignore a village because it’s small.
I love this message. Even if you aren’t the smartest, wealthiest or most beautiful, you can expect to feel the sun’s life-giving warmth. The implication is, we all deserve it. There’s 7 billion of us on this one rock, under this one sun. We come in all shapes, sizes, colors, medical states, economic conditions, ethnicities, sexualities and religious traditions. We all stumble. Freeze. We all can try again. Melt.
Best wishes to you in the season you find yourself in today.