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.
