daffodil musings

This year seems to be accelerating under its own momentum; February leaking into March and suddenly April! I wore my Spring coat for the first time one day this week and it felt glorious... (well, until the way home when the sun had gone in and it was decidedly chilly!).

I'm now on my medicine rotation, which is definitely very rich in opportunities to grow: I'm learning more than ever, it seems, although am sometimes a little overwhelmed by the relentless day after day cycle of ward rounds, clinics and acute medical environments, including lots of weekends and evenings. Incredible daffodils, kind doctors who go out of their way to teach and coming home in time for bathtime with teeny people are some of my pockets of joy in it. Snuggling in a little cafe one rainy lunchtime with a good friend, creamy hot chocolate and the best bacon sandwiches we'd ever had wasn't bad either...

I've moved house again - the family I'd been living with had to move about 45 minutes' drive away because of a new job, so I'm now with another lovely family who also have gorgeous littles! The first few days were a tad wobbly in terms of food (the new environment/kitchen/routines, indecisiveness around food choices and being too shy to admit I was anxious about it combined a bit) so I missed a few meals but have definitely found my feet now and am feeling settled. 

Spending the Easter weekend with my Ellie and Iyla was so special - I arrived late on Friday night when Ellie was asleep and, seeing as I was staying in the room with her cot, tiptoed into bed and managed to get to sleep without disturbing her. She woke up around 2am and must have noticed me because she got my attention back from dreamland straight away ("AnnaaaaAnnaAnnaAnnaaa"); came into my bed, and poked me awake every hour or so to share her suddenly-remembered thoughts ("I did hold a butterfly on my hand!"; "Anna...I don't think we have any clothes for you here!...oh, you have some in your bag?!"), kiss me on the nose and stroke my hair. It's usually preferred to have more than an hours' consecutive sleep, but it was so lovely to be with her that I really didn't mind. We had two lovely 'family days' and I slipped straight back in to complete comfort and wasn't shy at all which made it so much more relaxing. There are few things more glorious to watch than a onesied two year old congratulating herself on her own intelligence as she finds another little lindt bunny...

 I also had a HUGE self care win on Thursday night - it was definitely a 'God thing'. I had happened to be looking for a car insurance document in my box file during the day and found my 'relapse prevention' plan that I did with my therapist before she went on maternity leave in October. A large part of this plan focused on one of my main learning outcomes of the work we'd done - to continue to recognise that feeling emotions and having strong thoughts does not have to be 'wrong' or overwhelming, but can simply act to inform me about what's going on internally. When I later started to get frustrated with myself, overtired, feel overwhelmed and wanting to punish myself in order to numb out, I felt suddenly a prompt that I should have a bath (something I haven't done for YEARS due to not being able to sit with my body/finding the bath painful because I was underweight). I thought it was worth a try, so took in an easter crispy cake, a cup of tea and a book and spent half an hour soaking, getting out so much more relaxed. Essentially, I did the opposite of what the lies in my head were pressuring me to do: what a victory.

In other news, we lost my 94 year old Grandad in March: I had a text from my mum saying to ring her ASAP one Tuesday morning on my way to a tutorial, and knew instantly what she was going to tell me. It happened the same week I found out my childhood home had sold and that I had to move from my Brighton house in 2 weeks' time (and didn't know at the time where I would be able to move to) as well as a horrible pneumonia I needed antibiotics for, having to deal with parental fallout and a difficult week in the hospital. Too much emotion all at once felt a little like I was drowning: I think I listened to 'nearness' on the new bethel album several hours a day that week, and certainly all the way to and back from the funeral. There is such comfort in the line in the picture below in particular: healer is part of who Jesus is - it doesn't depend on when he happens to carry that out. He IS the healer, in a way more certain, deliberate and steadfast than a single healing event.

I'm learning to accept this new stage - I don't even want to say 'of recovery' anymore because that suggests a definite end point to the process - of, life, I guess. I think I always believed that life and struggles were separate things; that at some point I'd have none of the struggles and all of the life: no eating disorder or self hatred or loss or shame. I'm now beginning to understand that, while I will one day be in a completely perfect life-and-God-filled place, it won't be on this Earth. The struggles are a part of life here and part of what makes it so special - messy, broken and yet beautiful; they lead us to God repeatedly when we fail and fall. Yes, I still often wish I were either completely perfect or completely destroyed, but hopefully this slight shift of perspective means my dichotomous vision is being diluted into shades of grey: with increasing acceptance, humility and grace for myself.

 A quote that struck me recently:
 "I don't know if the hole ever actually goes away, but I do know that it doesn't have to go anywhere"
- 'Goodbye Ed, Hello Me' (page 69)

Amen to new acceptance of brokenness, balanced with the knowledge of God as healer and the firm hope in restoration. Happy Spring!