#everydamnday

Here’s the understatement of the century:  I don’t do change with grace and poise. My therapist calls it “adjustment disorder” (admittedly, now that I’m in the field, I’ve learned it’s much more of a catch-all diagnosis so my insurance will pay for my sessions – thank you, Ms. Therapist-lady).

But here I am: embracing this beautiful new beginning, manufacturing a not-so-believable taxidermied smile to hide the fear-sweat trickling down my back. I’ve always envied those who are like Ruth. Oh you know, the whole “where you go, I’ll go and where you stay, I’ll stay; when you drink, I’ll drink; hey, let’s eat cake!” motto (not how it goes, you say?). Looks great in painted calligraphy on the mantel, but my fear-ridden self longs for the comfort of familiarity and status-quo (hey, I’m not proud of it, I’m just being honest).

If you’re anything like me, you have to fight for joy. Tooth and nail. Every single day. But there is joy in the struggle, I’m sure of it. There is a freedom in the weightiness of carrying both light and dark. That’s what it means to be a brave monster.

There is more grace here – in this messy, uncomfortable now – than I thought. I’m realizing both grace and insight are my companions if I quiet down long enough to take inventory. Some of us live easily in this lavish, liberal grace. Others have to bind it our foreheads and doorposts every damn day to remind ourselves that the day is, indeed, not damned.

Pushing through the fear and finding myself surprised by joy,

Court