Some days, “politics” can really wear you down. The personalities you have to tiptoe around, the words you have to carefully choose. The mask you have to wear, the ruminations of what you shouldn’t/should have done. And when you hear others’ experiences enough, you don’t feel uplifted, like “hey, we’re all going through the same thing,” you just feel downtrodden. Like there’s no end. In the middle of one of these conversations with a friend, I had to interrupt and ask – so what feeds your soul?
He told me stories – the time when his sister-in-law secretly treated them to dinner even though she was penniless; the time when his brother’s father-in-law felt so uncomfortable with being treated to an expensive meal that he ordered the cheapest items on the menu but suffered through each dish; the time when he hugged someone even though he knew it was going to be awkward because it’s been too long, but hey, it was good, in the end. For him, I think it’s being part of moments of simple, but selfless giving, that brings joy to his heart.
When it was my turn, my answer was a little less coherent: reading a great book, watching thunderstorms and being reminded of my waterloo roommates, walking barefoot on grass in the summer, falling on a ski run and needing friends to pick me up because I was laughing so hard and then doing the same for another friend on another run, a moment of peace when sunset streams into my apartment and gently brightens my every day objects… At first I found it hard to find a common theme, but it is in these moments that I am reminded how utterly blessed I am. Blessed – with literacy, with friendship, with health, with opportunities to travel, with a place of my own…
So, what feeds your soul?