Moving Forward

In the early 1990s, I was chairman of a fundraising organization for AIDS.  Part of our mission was also to offer grief seminars.  What I remember most from those seminars is that we often think we are grieving the loss of a loved one, or a job, or a divorce, but the reality is that we must also allow ourselves to grieve "the loss of our assumed future."  We cannot change what has just happened, but we can change the outcome in our lives.

The only thing that we can truly predict is that there will be changes.  Many of them will be beyond our control.  It's not really fair to naively say, "roll with the punches."  Anyone who might say that hasn't been punched too hard.  And most of the time, we Americans do not allow ourselves adequate time to grieve and process.  "Buck up.  Get back to work.  It'll get your mind off of it."  In most other cultures, people are allowed weeks off work for the death of a family member.  The usual time in United States is a week or less.

I recognize that I write often on this subject, but it is usually these new directions that are forced on us in life that redefine who we are and give us a new purpose.  It is not easy for many people to take risks and leap into new territory.  Sometimes they need to be forced on us.

As I look back on my life, my most difficult punches always lead to a new land of Oz that I had no idea even existed.  I would have never chosen to get the punches, like cancer, HIV, or being gay, but they are a part of this life for me, and once I grieve their arrival and move on, I choose to find the good in it . . . and there is plenty.  If nothing else, it gives me something to blog about.

Actors get their biggest applause from their most difficult roles.  Many high-risk company ventures become the most profitable.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Blah blah blah.  We all have to learn that we can't really plan our futures.  Shit will happen.  

A nurse in the emergency room recently asked me to write a book and title it, "Bring It On, Bitch."