I am grateful tonight for staying power, for the power of perseverance. I know I write about perseverance a lot, but when you deal with a lot of tough stuff on a semi-regular basis, or you’ve been through a lot, you know a bit about what it takes to stay in the fray, to hold on for dear life, to stand strong, to hang in there, to persevere. You get the idea. So yeah, I’m grateful for all that stuff. You could take every quote there is about standing strong and I’ve likely said it to myself, in my head or aloud, like a mantra. It is the “ha ha hee” of breath that I huffed out during labor pains when I was delivering my firstborn. It is the “eye-of-the-tiger,” or the “when-the-going-gets- tough-the-tough-get-going” mentality that has made me put one foot in front of the other when I flat out didn’t feel like moving.
Don’t get me wrong: this isn’t some Rambo, GI Jane, tough-as-nails, macho, bravado that you see in action movies. This is a heartbroken, tears pouring from my eyes, wailing in anguish, screaming in rage and frustration kind of perseverance that is not pretty or glamorous or glory-filled. It is an almost surprised, bemused, I-don’t-know-how-I’m-still-here kind of staying power that makes no sense, it defies logic. Again, don’t mistake the things I’ve gone through for the horrors of war, the desperation of poverty and homelessness, the heart-wrenching death by violence of a loved one. My persistence has involved standing in the midst of first-world problems like losing my job, the ending of a significant relationship, losing my home, and the death of a parent by natural causes at a ripe old age.
Mine have been difficult and lamentable losses to be sure: it’s not my intention either to glorify and exaggerate or minimize and underestimate what I’ve gone through. This is not about the pain olympics and whose suffering is worse or less difficult than mine. It is simply an acknowledgment that I have suffered loss and learned to manage it, to overcome the challenges I’ve faced and gotten a little stronger in the process. I am grateful for these experiences for what they have taught me about myself; though I am not particularly interested in or anxious to repeat them.
And so at the end of this day I am grateful, as I often am, for the simple, basic things so many of us take for granted: a full belly and a safe place to rest my head for the night; a body that mostly functions well–limbs that obey what my mind asks them to do and a mind that knows what to ask of them; a job to get up and go to and safe, reliable transportation to get me there; the mental faculties to be able to contribute meaningful thoughts and ideas over the course of a day; and of course family members and friend whom I love and who love me back. That alone–the presence of love in my life–makes me rich beyond measure. And as corny as it sounds, it is that love that makes everything else possible, it provides the motivation and the will I need to keep going when I want to sit down in the middle of everything and give up.
“Haters gon’ hate, I’m a lover,” my brother declared on his Facebook page tonight. He’s right: there will always be people who are negative, mean, spiteful, angry, in other words, haters. There will likely always be inhumane humans and manmade disasters and wars, and all kinds of drama, trauma, and tremendous challenges and strife. And there will always be people who with perseverance, hope, faith, determination and sheer force of will stand strong and prevail no matter what. That gives me hope and reminds me that when I stand strong I am usually not standing alone. And for that reminder, I am most definitely grateful.
