Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, and hope without an object cannot live. – Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I almost got caught up in the popular practice of setting a word for the year. It’s so much pressure, IMO, to filter the grand vision for my life through the lens of one word. Instead I settled for the peace of working towards better habits. Because let’s face it—no foundation, no house.
Holding that space for myself— to align once more with my life’s divine pace and to spring away from the hypnotic highlight reel of those much further along than I—allowed a shift I acknowledged with joy but couldn’t name.
It was strange then, that one evening before chorale practice, I could be described as downright depressed. I’d made the mistake of killing time on Youtube and in the rabbit hole that is opera, I found Paul Potts’ performance of Puccini’s Nessun Dorma on Britain’s Got Talent. I rarely watch TV, listen to secular music or bother to keep up with iterations of formulaic talent shows. Yet something made me want to know more about this contestant. Maybe it was the way he held himself, shoulders a little bit hunched in, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his body, carrying some unshakeable sadness. Article after article proved me right as the bullying and sexual abuse that marred his childhood was carelessly juxtaposed against the ease of life after fame, seemingly untouched by trauma and all its sequelae.
I wasn’t buying it. No one recovers just like that. So I read the articles again, looking for the turning point.
In one interview, he said, I’ve always been serious in everything I’ve done. [Oh well that’s a good trait to have I thought to myself.]
In another interview, he shared what pushed him to audition: I was sitting in front of the computer one night, and Britain’s Got Talent flashed up on the screen. I filled in the form and then was asked if I wanted to submit it. I only had one coin in my pocket, a 10p piece, and when I tossed it, it came up heads. So I applied. When it was my turn to go on for the audition, I don’t know what it was that made me walk out. It didn’t feel like it was my own free will… Although I walked the way I always walk… it was as if something else was controlling me. I certainly wasn’t convinced I was good enough. I thought it was a dead end, a one-off performance. Now I know it was actually a crossroads, but I had no way of knowing it at that time.
[Look at God I thought again.]On his life now: I give myself a hard time. It’s important to challenge yourself. If you accept anything that’s not right it can become a slippery slope. To me this is special – I want to keep it that way. Simon Cowell has given me really positive feedback. He’s told me he’s really happy with how hard I’ve worked… I never imagined I’d be sitting in a very nice bar, in a very nice hotel in Chicago. It’s kind of bewitching that life can change like that. You need to remember that. I treat every day as a first day, as something special.
[Hmmm, you used to be like that said my mind to me.]
It was so clear. Paul had simply decided to keep saying yes to life. Though motivated by low self-worth—he didn’t even think enough of himself to bother with suicide—he never stopped holding on. When it was time for his life to shift, God literally made sure he didn’t miss his moment. And his response to this gift? He practices excellence. He works hard. He stays humble. He greets each day as if it were the first.
I’m at the tail-end of my own trauma, one that began two years ago when I lost my father and dealt with a few other things in rapid succession. I thought I was fine. Truly. Life seemed normal on the outside. Yet internally, I was dying and couldn’t figure out why. Things I used to love no longer held my attention. I stopped smiling. Stopped dating. Stopped reading. Stopped writing. Stopped singing. Stopped looking people in the eye. Stopped being approachable and called it setting boundaries. Trauma, I’ve learned, exiles the true self and leaves the shadow in an endless cycle of self-recrimination. How did I get here? Why did I allow myself to lose so much? How can I get it all back? A litany of questions designed to lose momentum and precious time.
My personal crossroads came on April 14, sitting on the outdoor patio of a Chic-Fil-A across from M who patiently listened as I gutted myself in bits and pieces that started here, picked up there and looped back on itself. At the end, her gentle verdict and a soft suggestion: You’ve been through a lot of trauma, you know that right? And your work environments have always held a lot of trauma for you. Don’t try to figure out what went wrong or what you could’ve fixed. If you can put it all behind you; if you can just compartmentalize it and commit to trying again. Can you do that?
I nodded slowly.
I went home and thought for a bit. In the seat of my soul, I knew M was right.
A week passed. Then another. I saw myself trying. The reward, a warmth and freedom I thought I’d never get back. In this, trauma has presented its only gift—resilience. Even as ugly patterns seek to highlight how far I am from where I want to be, I see the growth. I see myself unafraid—of pain, of more trauma, of whatever the heck happens next. Sure, days will come when I will forget to lean in, when thick fingers of ingrained coping mechanisms seek to grab as I jog past. But the march to full functionality continues.
So in half jest, I present to you my word for the year: SERIOUSLY.
Seriously…?
Yes, seriously. Dodging adversity is often not a choice. A devastating event, the kind that sucks the joy and hope from everything is sometimes inevitable. If, for the first time in your life, something has managed to knock you flat on your back, it’s going to take a while to get back on your feet. At some point though, you’ll be sent people and opportunities designed to restore momentum. I hope you allow those people and opportunities in so they can grace you with healing. I hope you keep putting one foot in front of the other. I hope you keep saying yes to life.
Seriously.
[References: Ezekiel 37: 1 – 14/Philippians 3:13/Matthew 11:28/Oceans – HillsongPS: This post is dedicated to Jesus who sent me breadcrumbs; first, to seek healing and second, to focus on my mindset. All to prepare me to take the correct turn at the crossroads. Thank you for being a restorer.
PSS: Shoutout to Chic-Fil-A’s commitment to Christianity. Until that night, I had no idea that their playlist was actually popular contemporary Christian music in instrumental form. Slick. I’m into it.
Photography: Will Charles Media