This week I heard a story of a grandfather in South America who took his grandson to the seashore one day to witness a spectacular annual event. Early in the morning as they arrived on the beach, a large colony of penguins emerged from the ocean. This particular species of penguin is known for being extremely strong swimmers. In fact, they spend most of their time in the water, and therefore feel quite vulnerable on land. The reason for their annual visit to this particular beach lay about 100 yards away… It is their burrows where they return each year to mate.
As the young boy and his grandfather watched, small groups of penguins would start to waddle toward their burrows, but inevitably, after only a few yards, something would spook them – a shadow, a bird overhead, or even the wind in the scrub or brush nearby. Immediately, the group would turn and scurry back to the water’s edge where they felt strong… and safe. This scenario of slow progression played out all day, until just as the sun was setting, the last group of penguins found the courage needed to brave the 100 yards of open land to their burrows.
At this point, the grandfather turned to his grandson and said, “There will be times in this life when you must leave your safety zone in order to get to the next place you need to be. The journey there may leave you feeling vulnerable, but you must find the courage to face your fears – both real and imagined. The important thing is to never give up… It may take you longer than you (or others) think it should, but as long as you never give up, you have not failed… You have succeeded… and grown stronger in the process.”
As I listened to this story, it really hit home…
My time with Bruce was my “time in the ocean.” It was when I felt safe… It was when I felt strong. The burrows represent my future… my life if I choose to move forward. And finally, the 100 yards of open beach filled with dangers – “both real and imagined” – is my time of grief… My time of learning to live without Bruce by my side.
As time passes, I am moving further up the beach, closer and closer to my burrow. Yet each time I feel hurt or afraid, I want to run back to the shore… back to my time (and memories) with Bruce. BUT my life is ahead of me… I know that… I know I must be willing to be vulnerable and allow myself to grow in order to really live again…
But how?
This week I still found myself trying to figure out how to leave the hurt and judgement from others behind… But as life seems to do, my answer came a few days later in the form of a quote from Theodore Roosevelt…
“It’s not the critic who counts! It’s not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done it better. The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with blood and sweat and dust, who at the best, in the end, knows the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worse, if he fails, he fails daring greatly!”
Oh, my gosh! How true!
Changes in life are hard! They throw us onto the beach or into the arena… And grief and loss are some of the hardest changes of all. As I make my way on this journey, I know there will be both successes and failures…
But I must remember I am the one in the arena… I am the one “marred with blood and sweat and dust.” And what someone “sitting in the stands” thinks of me doesn’t really matter, because …
I am the one who, day by day… step by step, is daring greatly…
Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Have you ever found yourself wishing others could be more patient and less judgmental? Sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are the ones in the arena… And we show courage with each step we take (no matter how small). If you would be willing to share your experience, there may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *
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