We thought we could cure everything but it turns out we can only cure a small amount of disease. The rest of it needs to be held.
- Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen
Did you know 6 out of 10 Americans live with at least one chronic illness? That means almost everyone knows someone who lives with an incurable condition or at least knows someone who cares for them. If we can't fix ourselves and each other, then what? How do we stay connected? How do we not turn away and say "Their story is too sad for me" or "I feel helpless listening to this." Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, NYT best-selling author, physician and Crohn’s Disease patient, believes there is a lot we can do for each other and it starts with holding. Listening without answers. When we create space to hold, we cultivate curiosity and compassion for our shared humanity whether someone has a broken back, a broken immune system, a broken family or a broken spirit.
What's unnervingly clear to the stubborn part of me that wants Hollywood endings is that some lives are leaning toward grieving and letting go while others are turning toward holding on—embracing new chapters, new possibilities. We are all on uniquely different trajectories but for the precious time being, we are together. And through this simple act of gathering, sharing, listening and holding, time is changing our bodies, our lives, into more than finite bags of skin and bone, and into vessels of truth that will live on, even when our bodies don't.
I often think about how everyone loves a good before and after (like your Hollywood ending.) But we want to barrel through the middle to get to the “good” part - the “after.” But so much of life is lived in the middle so why the hell don’t we just embrace it and try to enjoy it?
I want to sit with every line of this. What’s strange, after a little illness or caregiving, is the memory of the time when we thought (if ever) that roaring good health was the norm. What innocence!