Life regularly requires us to go on, regardless of the circumstances. 'Soldiering on' it is often called:  Mud, mortors or military mania: you're a soldier, so you march. As human beings? Biology orders us to carry on, so we do. Each in our own way using whatever talents we have to keep alive as best we can.




For the last 2 1/2  months I have been soldiering on. Not hard, really. I have a family who needs me as part of the wheel. As I need them as part of my wheel. Being a mother means you feel you need to protect everybody. Being family means you feel you need to pull together and do what needs to be done, with lots of hugs and 'I love you's'. So we pull together and we hug and we love you.


As Himself moves into health and rehab, we try to find a way to settle into a rhythm of visiting, motivation, carrying on. My sons and their wives, my friends, his friends, all our family, we are still to a large extent soldiering on. Not easy but not too hard, really. The love is amazing.


But this morning I learned something from a simple little e-mail from the Dru Yoga foundation. It's a little exercise to feel your heart. To access your compassion. And as I lounged on the sofa with my thumb and ring fingers and middle fingers touching I went to my heart. And I discovered that my heart is sore, people. Oh it is so sore. For us. For what we have been through. For the months of struggle ahead.


But my heart also aches for you. For your battles. For your pain. For the anger and hatred spreading so sneakily through wars and politics and poverty and ignorance. 
 

I am a bit weepy now. Feeling terribly sorry for us all. For you, me and Himself. Feeling an all-encompassing compassion for us all. I am going to have a good day. I am going to be spoilt by a beloved family. But it will be all the better for remembering that YOU are also soldiering on. That your heart is also sore. I hope that someone will spoil you too. Feel free to share your aching heart with me, as I shared mine with you. And let us all go out and spoil someone.



Namasté my friends