What if you don’t want to be a hero?
It might be something about getting older. The urge to be the hero is more subdued these days.
I still love the old tales. Narnia, and the children who turn into fair and just kings and queens. A Wrinkle in Time, more unlikely young heroes. Knights fighting or befriending dragons. Hobbits saving the world. Wonderful stuff for a young mind to marinate in.
Then you grow up.
Life is hard.
One of the toughest things for me was to accept that not everything can be fixed. Happy endings? More about that at the, um, ending. Meanwhile…
There are people who I love who have chronic pain and it can’t be fixed. It’s heartbreaking. They don’t deserve this.
Another thing I was naively unprepared for is that some people take pleasure in hurting others. Yikes! As a child, I thought goodness was real, but evil was only a fantasy. Odd, but that was what I thought.
This is not going to be a grim tale all about hurting. I’m writing to acknowledge that the hero thing doesn’t always look like we imagine as children. It’s that, plus also about happy endings.
Caregiving
My parents lived to 95 and 97, and I was their caregiver. Mom was in and out of being declared palliative for an incredibly long time. I was still working — running my own small business. Teaching fewer hours was part of how I managed. Good for their health, not good for my business.
I was far from perfect.
I fought the dragon of loneliness for my parents and advocated for them the best I could. There were moments that I wish I could have done better, moments the fatigue got to me. Finding a balance with self-care in that situation would indeed be a fantasy.
My heart goes out to you if you are in this position. Being a caregiver for a senior is a job doomed to fail. That is if you consider that they eventually get worse and die to be a failure; but it’s not, it’s life. Death is as much a part of life as any other part.
So there’s that.
Dragons Today
There was a time when slaying dragons appealed. Today, I understand better, it takes so much energy.
If dragon slaying is part of your current journey, more power to you. There are many dragons out there: homelessness, sickness, and injustice in countless forms, to name a few.
Let’s each do what we can to combat these. The harm is real and every bit of help in this battle can make a difference, even if we can’t all be heroes full-time.
Let’s support those who are. This is important. You know the people I am talking about: those who work full-time as caregivers or to try to establish justice. Consider supporting these folks in any way you can.
There was a time during Covid when people became aware of how difficult a job it is to work in long-term care. These workers hardly have time or energy to mourn when the one they are caring for passes away.
Some folks work in hospital situations that are tremendously draining emotionally and physically. They need support to carry on and do the work well.
Or consider the high burnout rate among people working with those who are homeless. More support for workers is needed — there is a high turnover rate.
Then there is the challenge of those forced from their home or country by war or injustice. They need practical help and those trying to help have many hurdles to jump.
These are only a few of the dragons of today.
These dragons are everywhere, which means there will be heroes in your world who need your support; whether financially or in some other way. It matters. We can make the world a kinder place, even if we are not full-time heroes, by supporting those who are.
My Current Role Model
Today I would much rather be a hero like Winnie the Pooh. A little plump bear. He didn’t hunt any dragons. Why would I even call him a hero?
Pooh Bear knew how to be a friend. He kept in touch with his friends. Lovely spontaneous tea with honey parties, long summer days to accomplish nothing. Now there’s a forgotten art. Pooh was content with being a friend.
Pooh’s friends were a motley crew. Tigger was undoubtedly ADHD. Eeyore constantly struggling with depression. Pooh welcomed them all without judgment.
An unlikely hero? Yes, but one that makes a lot of sense to me now that I am older. Although considering how popular these books are with the very young, possibly a 3-year-old possesses wisdom that we, for a season, forget.
Happy Endings
Now, about the happy endings. I can only see these in the context of hope. Bear with me (pun intended) as I explain.
Perhaps like you, I am enthralled by the night sky, mesmerized by a thunderstorm, deeply delighted by finding that $10.00 bouquet of roses, and still astounded by the fact that I am here and alive.
The findings of science also capture my imagination. The microscope contains wonders as well as the telescope. Looking inward, there’s the never-ending marvel of our creative adaptable brains.
Wonder within and all around. We can only comprehend the teensiest amount of it.
I see a thread running through things, despite the evil that exists.
It all seems so lovingly constructed and knit together. This is where I find hope.
It doesn’t matter to me whether or not there was a big bang to start it all. Sounds like a fun plan — a giant fireworks party with the angels cheering loudly. Why not?
Looking past the debate on the beginnings, the intricacy of how it all works together says there must be a plan — a plan put in motion by a wise Creator.
In the Closet
In practical ways, my faith has been put in the closet.
There are a multitude of horrendous associations these days with believing in God, possibly more today than ever before. I cannot even say that I am a believer without becoming defensive and adding, that I respect everyone’s right to their gender, and addressing multiple other issues that are now sadly and inappropriately associated with faith.
So mostly, I hide in the closet, and occasionally peek out, like now.
The Hope
I don’t have answers concerning evil. Well, except perhaps the same answer that gives me hope. And that is…
This is not all there is. This hope is the only thing that makes continuing sense of both the love and the hurt we experience here.
I’m not big on hellfire. I am old enough to know, it’s not my place to be anyone’s judge, jury, or executioner. Thankfully, I don’t have to go there. It’s not my business to decide the future of others and since I hope for grace for myself, I might as well hope the same for those who have been unspeakably nasty to me.
It took time to learn, that in my case, to resolve the evil I experienced required only this; firm boundaries and getting on with my life. Those who hurt me are unlikely to learn anything from me. Not my job to teach them; not my circus as some say. When it has been clearly demonstrated that someone is not teachable, why waste energy there?
I only have this one life. Enough effort and energy are required to keep learning how to manage this. I don’t want to manage yours; no thanks, and all the best with that.
I digress; back to the happy endings.
My conclusion is, that there is so much injustice and pain in this current existence, our story cannot end here.
Surely an author who has given so much loving attention to the details of a wonder-inducing universe will not leave the story here. It is incomplete!
I can’t prove to you, but neither can anyone disprove, that our spirit goes to a better place when we die. This would, however, make sense of our strong sense of autonomy. Our existence, the deep inborn sense that I am myself and you are you, is undeniable. And the deepest wonder is — we know it.
I was sitting there when Mom and Dad breathed their last breath. When the spirit exits the body, that body is empty. My hope is in the mystery of where the spirit has gone.
I hope for a place where all tears are wiped away — a place where there is no more death, no pain, or sorrow. A place for the story to continue, in joy.
There is much to love in our beautiful broken world. There is much to love in our beautiful broken lives.
This is my firm hope for us all — the best is yet to come.
Tea with honey, anyone?
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