Life in the Ebb & the Exhale

There is a ubiquitous echo of ache throughout this world. We chase it with the next life achievement and idealistic fulfillment. It truly is a first-world problem. The rat runs the wheel faster and faster, going nowhere. We sit in a wading pool of safety and comfort, misjudging the ebbtide as heartache and the exhale as devoid of life.

A wild salty wind blows in the ancient recesses of our being. There is more to life than paddling pools, corporate ladders, and idealistic wealth. You cannot avoid sorrow this way. The preservative brine of an expansive mystery awaits in unknown dark waters. It is worth the loss of air and receding tide.

A few weeks ago, I misplaced my engagement ring. I’m not largely sentimental regarding things, but the history etched on the rings I’ve lost have left an indention deeper than their absence on my hand. If you know my history with keepsake rings and their loss, you will understand the despair and self-loathing.

Why are some things so hard to let go of? The ebb and the exhale are sometimes the most challenging living spaces. The undoing of everything is paramount. It aches…and aches.

These past weeks, even years, have been hard on my family. Many of the stories are not mine to tell. I will speak of my own. Last week was burdensome for the Coffey household. I had a constant overwhelmed feeling that kept growing. I did a lot of traveling from the end of April to the end of May. While the events that took me away from my family were fantastic, they also set my rhythm off. So, when I took my dog to our favorite park on Tuesday, May 23, I felt it was a good outing for both of us. The subsequent dog attack and fight left everyone lacerated and bleeding. I needed to change the narrative, but I couldn’t.

The hollowing is natural when our world turns upside down by tragedy. The what-ifs are often worse than the change of trajectory. We hope to change the circumstances if we think it through enough instead of letting the happenstance be and allowing the healing and restoration to be the focus.

I became bewildered by everything. I certainly worry myself until I’m threadbare. I am replaying scenarios in the hopes of fixing and mending the fragments. I am so thankful for my husband, who had a challenging week, but was there every step of the way. “I’ve got you!” A phrase we often share offered a much-needed reprieve.

I find myself wanting to fix the narrative of my life. I’ve grown as a person. I can set boundaries and cultivate healthy thoughts through medicine and counseling. Each human comes with complexities, preconceived notions, and strong convictions. We have to allow that space for differing views and honest conversation and discourse. I wish we would open our eyes to this and be less triggered to cancel someone.

So, where do we live fully in the ebb and the exhale? I believe it starts by finding the raw refinement in these moments. Accepting the love and support of the precious family and friends – our community – that come alongside us during these times. Allowing them to come alongside us! Understanding that it is okay not to be okay and that feelings are indicators, not dictators.

We are painfully finite. I almost feel as if life is teaching us how to let go throughout our journey so that we can be prepared for that final letting go. While hard on this side, death is a wealth of beauty as we pass to the other. I’m grateful for a faith that doesn’t shy away from suffering. I’m grateful for Jesus putting on flesh to share in our sufferings. It is just as powerful as his death and resurrection.

There is an art in letting go. A deep release happens when we exhale. Walking a beach when the tide has gone out leaves a wealth of shimmering beauty under crushed rubies. The ebb and the exhale are not meant to punish; they are intended to make more room. We didn’t fail because life happened. We are growing and strengthening and learning.