I have always thought of myself as a very lucky person.  In fact, years ago, I would worry that things were just too good.  It was like I had some deep “knowing” that my life could not possibly continue to go as smoothly as it had been.  For sure, I felt “dipped in it.”  I had two beautiful and healthy children, a loving husband, and we were living in our own home in a beautiful city.  The icing on the cake was that I was able to stay at home with my children, which was truly what I had always wanted.

Then things began to unravel, and for the last few years it has been a wild ride – one I never imagined I would be on.

Still, at every turn I have felt held, somehow…

For example, it seemed that within weeks of my discovering that I needed to go back to work (which was a devastating notion at the time), the solution simply presented itself. The opportunity to open my own preschool seemed to fall into my lap.  Yes, I worked hard to get it going (and still do), but it felt like an amazing gift. I discovered that I loved being back at work as my own boss, and providing a service in my community.

Next, it became clear that my husband and I needed to separate. We felt so much guilt over putting our children through this.  It was heartbreaking. I knew I didn’t want to stay in our family home, and he knew he did.  So that made the decision easy that I would be the one to move out. However, there was not much money, and the idea of moving my kids into a gloomy place felt awful.  I called a couple of realtors and they were not optimistic about matching my price point with anything too inspiring.  Then, I looked on Craigslist, and I swear the very first thing that popped up was a beautiful (very tiny, but beautiful) little guest house on a farm – and it was within my budget.  I couldn’t believe it. It was a dreamy little haven nestled under one hundred year old beech trees.  The property owners were wonderful, and they embaced the girls and me like family.  I can’t tell you how healing that home was for us.

Through every rough road, I felt as though I was being led.

But the hits kept coming…

As I’ve written before, my intention here is to heal, and never to hurt. So I won’t be sharing anything that might upset a loved one, nor will I reveal anything that is not ready to be revealled. With that being said, this past year has been a challenge (to put it mildly).  However, with every twist thrown at me, I have tried to remember that each situation is an opportunity to grow, even when the growing is painful. Glennon Melton Doyle calls this an “A.F.G.O.” –

Another Fucking Growth Opportunity

And then, my dad died.

It is hard for me twist a loss this big into a positive – into a growth opportunity.  Doing so makes it seem like I am somehow thanking the Universe for taking him. Right now that seems like an impossible perspective to gain.

My grandmother once said to me, “Bethany, nobody likes to be shat upon.” I marvelled (and was highly amused) at her ability to express this sentiment in an eloquent and dignified manner.

Well, you guys, this just feels shitty.  I feel “shat upon.”

But, as they do, children tend to give us reminders about perspective and the beauty of having a positive outlook. My youngest said to me yesterday…

 

“Mom!  Did you know that it is actually lucky when a bird poops on you?!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! I’ve already been lucky twice and I’m only eight!”

{Maybe prespective really is everything.}

shit

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