The Journey Back: Overcoming the First Wave
“Sometimes, the hardest thing is to overcome that first wave of tiredness, and then you just keep going.”
Those words, spoken by a kind friend on a sun-drenched lakeside path, became a quiet anchor in my soul. They resonated deeply with my struggle, a direct challenge to the profound exhaustion and lack of motivation that had consumed me after the time of profound, compounded losses.
My passion for writing, my health writing business, and my blog about our wonderful boys, cats, and a dog Brandy, was silent under the shadow of grief. But those simple words, spoken with gentle wisdom, became a turning point, a spark to guide me back to myself and my purpose.
My daily commute to work was more than just a trip; it became a profound ritual of introspection and soul exploration. The train rides offered a canvas for deep thought, a time to bond with like-minded people on their unique journeys to work, for some building businesses, and others chasing inspirations.
But the walk from the station, along the beautiful lakeside, with breathtaking green views and the oaks casting their long shadows, truly nurtured my spirit.
And then there were my friends. In the mornings, on my way to work, I’d often meet a kind gentleman with his incredible dog. That beautiful dog would instantly spot me at a distance, wag his tail, pulled gently on the leash, eager for our daily exchange. Those chance meetings profoundly fostered a deep sense of belonging and bonding. We’d stop and talk, delving into the exciting subject of nature, and the fascinating world of local flora and fauna.
My friend, a biologist, shared invaluable tips on nature observation – how to spot otters in the lake and the subtle dance of surface bubbles that hint at life below. He spoke of his amazing whale-watching trips, and I remember thinking of his words on a ferry to San Francisco. The ferry crew announced a Coast Guard requirement to slow down for migrating grey whales. I had experienced a quiet, accidental whale watch as a perfect echo of my friend’s wisdom.
My friend’s insight on overcoming tiredness initially felt irritating and even annoying – easier said than done, right? But slowly, an idea began to take root. I started to accept his wisdom, reminding myself of our conversation and his point about overcoming that initial impulse to quickly give in.
I began with small, simple steps. Instead of scrolling my phone on the couch, I’d push myself to do something small: prepare food for our boys, step outside for a breath of fresh air, and tackle a small laundry or cleaning task.
Incrementally, painstakingly, I slowly returned to my writing. Planning, brainstorming, and sticking to my goals in tiny, manageable pieces. It was a journey of coming home to myself and my passion, fueled by my friend’s gentle push and the profound reflections sparked by our conversations.
My friend and his dog gave me a gift beyond words: a new lens to view life, even through its obligations, its sadness, its non-negotiable losses. I promised my friend I would work on my goals, develop my writing, and pursue my dreams of freedom and purpose, and to live my life to the fullest.
I find myself looking out my office window in the new work location. A fresh landscape unfolds, and my thoughts drift back to the sun-drenched paths by the lake, with the glint of sun on the water, the rustle of leaves, and the scent of damp earth. My heart aches with longing for the quiet moments shared with two dear friends I no longer meet there.
This blog post, this return to writing, is my way of honoring that journey and that inspiration. It’s a testament to the powerful connection forged on those lakeside walks, and a heartfelt expression of both my sadness at my friend’s absence and my immense gratitude for the insights that guided me back to life.