![]() After a while I spoke to it, simply said, “thank you for staying.” It did not speak back, but again cocked its head to the side. It seemed like I sat there for a very long time, the focus of the Raven's attention. As the emotional wave crashed and then began to ebb, the Raven stayed. It observed me with what seemed concerned curiosity, head tipping from side to side, turning periodically. The long, dead tree branch ended just below me, putting the Raven at nearly eye-level as I slumped on the ledge. Either way it was there, perched a few feet away. I did not see or hear the Raven arrive maybe I had arrived to it. There was no one to witness my breakdown so I didn't need to hide it out of embarrassment or shame for not being strong enough. I was alone very much the usual on long runs. Emotion poured out of me, tears transformed to sobs, a full blown collapse. I no longer felt capable of carrying it, and there, in that moment, I broke. It was not a singular thing, rather the summation of all things in life that had become too much, suddenly. The challenges of long term partnership, professional development and progress at work, the burden of constant empathy with patients, co-parenting three amazing and driven kids, the uphill battle, and often frustrating work, of environmental activism, training, and trying to perform at the highest levels of endurance mountain running, and not enough time spent on self care combined to become an unbearable weight. I still find it difficult to accurately describe what had caused it all to happen, but regardless, it did. I could no longer push it in the corner or hide it under the rug. It was a raw, desperate moment that had been building for months, maybe even years, and now it was here. I pulled myself over the crest, and crumpled on to a rocky outcropping.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |