Tag: endurance

Some observations from the top of the far side of the hill

I’ve discovered peace is not the absence of conflict, but a condition of my spirit.

atop Steptoe Butte, Idaho, a thousand feet above the rolling hills of the Palouse area

It’s been a quick trip to the view from here.
The climb’s not been easy, nor predictable.
But here I stand amazed, a “senior.”

I’ve traded time for experience, and mistakes for learning.
I’ve gained strength, but lost endurance.
I’ve won wisdom, but lost patience.
I’ve raised hope in discouragement, and grown grit from defeat.

I’ve found that storms may cross my paths,
But don’t determine them.

I’ve seen tolerance harden to intolerance,
And pride swell to arrogance.
I’ve seen hate multiply and evil strut.
But I’ve watched kindness repulse anger,
Character rise undaunted,
And virtue stand uncowed.

I’ve lost money, but invested in family.
I’ve cried in sorrow and grieved in pain, yet laughed again.
I’ve been mistreated, ordeal-sharpened, and test-refined.
I’ve played and fought, joked and argued, lost and won.
I’ve screamed, offended; and apologized, repentant.

I’ve added girth, assembled wrinkles,
And grew perspective.
I’ve failed repeatedly,
But fewer than my tries.
I’ve wrestled with my tongue and temper,
And learned to carry more tunes than grudges.

I’ve discovered peace is not the absence of conflict,
But a condition of my spirit.

I’ve known sicknesses, but not all.
I’ve enjoyed health, but not always.
I’ve prospered in relationships, but also in regrets.
I’ve seen a lot, been through a lot, and loved a lot.

This privileged, age-afforded vista,
From this spot on not-quite-over-the-hill,
Reveals a journey far from perfect,
Yet a scuffle worth a life invested.
It satisfies my seasoned eyes, my slowing body,
An agile mind, and a grateful heart.

© 2021

My brother Brian

a victorious tragic life
1958-2016

Diagnosed with schizophrenia in his mid-twenties, my brother Brian battled depression, hallucinations, voices, anxiety, and highly threatening psychotic episodes in decades of discerning what was truly real in his reality.

As if that weren’t enough, brain cancer inserted its tentacles into his frontal lobe. He celebrated his fiftieth birthday with the first of three surgeries to counter the cancer’s terrible, inevitable advance.

On a recent Christmas evening surrounded by our family, a series of seizures convulsed his central nervous system in a hostile takeover of mind and body.

The off-kilter, razor’s edge balance of a medicated life disintegrated into a chemically-induced, frantic free-for-all for his future.

Forced to abandon his already limited lifestyle, his mobility, his interests, his hobbies, and his home, Brian’s horizons shrank to a double room in a nursing home with a single window.

His is not the archetypical story of Exalted Hero, Exemplary Leader, or Inspirational Honcho.

Yet…

Brian the mild-mannered gentleman, Brian the good-humored wit, Brian the patient and enduring soul, was ultimately the unlikely overcomer of some of life’s harshest punishments.

Though his accomplishments may be meager trifles measured against society standards; though his aims were modest and he consumed, perhaps, more than he contributed, his life, tragic as it appeared, was neither futile nor impotent.

Perhaps like many other so-called burdens to society, his purpose was intended for our collective benefit. Perhaps he was singled out to demonstrate to all of us how to bear an unfair burden. Maybe his gift of humor in the midst of a lifetime of suffering was to show us how to accept grace and how to give grace. Feasibly his sacrificial mission provided a broader perspective on our own discomforts, disappointments and disabilities. Patience through the worst of times? Decisively. Perseverance in perpetual pain? Resisting the ravages of mental and physical illness? Enduring when there simply is no other option? Emphatically yes, yes, and oh, yes!

I am sorry I came to recognize these realities late. But I rejoice in witnessing his ultimate triumph in carrying these unpleasant duties to completion at the finish line.

And to hear our Father say, “Well done, My good and faithful servant! Enter into the joy of your reward prepared in advance for you!”

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