It was one of those days when my energy seemed to have ebbed early on in the day. A heaviness enveloped my heart although there was nothing particularly unsettling to have brought on the feeling. Perhaps it’s because spring seems to have changed its mind and the brutal cold winds hit me hard when I walked the boy to school and waited at a no-shed stop afterwards to finally get to work. I fell asleep through most of the commute. That one, I had an explanation for. My alzheimer/dementia sick mother-in-law had been puttering around the house and roused me at 2:30am. By the time I got up, she had gone back to bed. For the most part, I try to ignore her. After feeding her breakfast this morning, I focused my energies on the boy.
We no longer walk hand-in-hand although he reaches out for mine when we cross driveways and streets, but he let’s go once we’ve made it to the other side. He stops a few meters from the school entrance to kiss me and ask for a hug, but refuses to do the same where he knows the other kids will see. And to think he’s only turning nine.
Somehow more than physical exhaustion took me over. Again, a heaviness of the heart. I tell myself to “let it go”. That thought kept resonating in my head over and over again throughout the day. The cold and gloom outside didn’t quite help. But I made it through the end of the day.
I don’t know why but I found myself searching for this favorite prayer/poem of mine penned by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. I finally found it minutes before I was to shut down my system and just walk out. One of these days, I will render this in my own handwritten lettering. I’ve always found inspiration and strength in these words:
Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers
but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain
but for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life’s battlefield
but to my own strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved
but hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant that I may not be a coward,
feeling Your mercy in my success alone;
But let me find the the grasp of Your hand in my failure.