And thus, with the harvest of the fall equinox, begins a new day in blogging, following a couple of years of family needs and then a long recovery from a knee replacement, which, although successful, has been way more involved than I could have imagined. Those challenges, along with intensive (read: time-consuming) physical therapy and full-time work, have more or less sucked me dry and left me unable to keep up with this blog.
But, I’m back. Yes, really this time! Swear to God(dess).
And today, I want to write about the nature of challenges. This is something important to us all—whether as humans, as family members, or as magickal people—because the nature of challenge is something we face every day.
I’ve been thinking a lot about challenges these past weeks and months. When my mom died, I was suddenly thrust into the role of matriarch, oldest family member, provider, manager of the finances, protector of the realm. As guardian of our family’s little kingdom, our success now rested on my shoulders. It was terrifying, and, I'll confess, exhilarating, because that’s how I respond to challenges: with excitement, and adrenalin rush, and a paper and pencil, because…. Gotta start making lists, right?
I’ve had some new work-related obstacles thrown my way, too. A short time ago, I was asked to teach a new class—one I’ve never taught and one that hasn’t been taught on my campus up until now. In addition to my already-packed fall term schedule, I found myself scheduled for lengthy training sessions and the need to explore new online materials and a new textbook. I looked around the room at my fellow trainees and saw pallor and looks of panic on their faces. I have to admit—I was a little overwhelmed myself. But, I took a deep breath and made myself smile. I’ve got this, I said. I have to have got this. I can do this. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m confident, but I have my resources at hand, and I have good people to support me. Bring it.
I also recently became the CEO of a national nonprofit volunteer organization, one which was in disarray because of the previous leader’s illness and personal issues. I stepped into a quagmire, and in truth, I did panic at first. Although I could see the disarray, I had no clue about how to start fixing it. Concerns regarding institutional finances and paperwork and taxes and budgets are beyond my knowledge base. I didn’t know what questions to ask, let alone where to start. So, I started with people. I lined up some folks versed in budgets and experienced in running nonprofits; I threw myself on their mercy, listened a lot, and took notes. Seven weeks later, the components are clicking into place
And there was the knee replacement, the biggest challenge of all. I’m a stoic person, and I deal well with pain. But I didn’t grok the challenges the surgery would pose during the weeks I couldn’t drive and could only walk with the help of a cane or walker. For several weeks, I became totally dependent on the good will of my friends and children, who brought me food, drove me to appointments, did my laundry, walked my dog, and so forth. During this time, I had to push every day, actually causing myself pain in order for the knee to regain its full function. And while I did, my community of good people rallied ‘round me, and supported me. Today I’m walking 2-3 miles every day and recovering well.
Challenges. Each one becomes our own hero’s journey, to be met and handled. At the critical moment, the point of crisis, the journey must be ours alone. But on either side of that point, and along the road, we depend on community—on a harvest of friends, to steal a line from an old favorite, Little House. And along that road, panic and fear and self-doubt don’t help. What works is taking one step at a time, making lots of lists, and leaning on a friend’s arm when we need to. Because, where would we be without our friends? Our family. Other humans….
A blessed fall equinox to all…. May you relish the challenges as you reap your harvest. And may you never hesitate to reach for a hand.