For all my Sweat, my Blood Runs Weak
"Keep the Earth below my feet For all my sweat, my blood runs weak Let me learn from where I have been Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn" - Mumford and Sons, "Below My Feet"
I shared in an earlier post I penned this week, that I’d got some bad news the other day. That the work that I’d been doing for so long; the work that had given me meaning and purpose and kept me going when things were, otherwise hopeless in my life. That this work had broken me. That this work wasn’t appropriate for me anymore. Work that saw me take multiple courses, college programs and training; both on the job and in educational forums, and that led me to other types of work in the helping profession when I couldn’t police anymore. Work that, I did on a volunteer basis for twenty years before becoming a police officer and soldier, and that I continued to do after I was forced to leave that career because of my brokenness. Not the only work that I know how to do, but the work that was the most important to me. The work that gave me the most satisfaction doing; service to others and giving of myself. Work that was begun in me long before I even knew what that meant or why.
Work that was begun in me through my inherent need for justice; to take action and right wrongs, and to effect change. That begun in me through my compassion and need to help or ‘fix’ things, people and circumstances. Work that was begun in me because of my passion for this work, and belief in service to others; that it is our duty as human beings to help and serve each other in some way. That we are not to abandon one another in their times of need and are to help each other up when we fall. A belief I have always held. A belief that came from deep within me; so deep inside my heart, mind and soul that I could only describe it as part of my purpose.
That this work, because of how I was made, was my purpose in life. That I had to somehow continue doing it but, after being told that continuing to do this work could hurt me; could do irreparable damage to my mind and body, I didn’t know where to turn. All of the sweat, blood and tears I have put into this work has to count for something. Everything I have done and experienced, and learned has been so that I could continue doing this work; continue serving others. But for all my sweat, my blood too runs weak. My body and brain are weakened from this work and were now compromising my ability to do this work.
When I got the news, I was devastated. I’d never felt that lost before. I’d never felt so confused or so defeated. Suddenly, all of the good work that I’d begun; or that had begun in me or through me, was over and could not be completed in, or by me. Suddenly, I had no meaning or purpose. Nothing that I was meant for, or that was meant for me. Nothing that would make me feel useful or of value to others. Who was I without this work? After all I had done throughout my life thus far to do this work. After all of the blood sweat and tears I had put into helping others, what else was there for me to do?
I was at a complete standstill. My life and its purpose had come to a grinding halt. What was next? What was meant for me now? Where was my life headed now that everything had changed? How was I going to manage this change? How could I let go of something that had defined me for so long? Who was I without this? I'd already let go of policing and adapted my plans. I'd already switched gears and decided on another career in the helping profession. What now? It was time to look for some guidance. It was time to look to the universe for answers. So, I did something I had not done for some time; I prayed.
Literallly, falling to my knees. I screamed, cried, swore, and broke down. I let it all out and asked for the answer to the seemingly most important and most prominent question of my life, "what's next?" I asked God and the Universe to help me learn from where I've been and lead me to where I'm going next. To "keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn" and to show me how I'm going to bring the good work that had begun in me to completion while I'm still here; somehow.
I surrendered and promised to listen for the answer. I promised to let go and let someone else lead me to what's meant for me now. And letting go helped in quieting the voices, telling me that it's hopeless and that I'm useless now. Letting go brought me peace. Letting go allowed me to see that what's meant for me will be whether or not I dwell on them. That perhaps, what is meant for me, is more valuable and better for me than what I want. That I need to practice what I preach and let go.