Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Depths



As my sons and I swam with turtles in a warm sea days before my NCLEX test, I remember thinking about my heightened awareness. I didn’t want to be this intentional only before tests or on vacation. This was how I wanted to live every day—keeping what was important at the top of the priority list … keeping it in focus … keeping it close to my heart.


But I worried. I knew once I took my final big test it would be autumn and school would've started and the onslaught of activities, demands, duties, and distractions would threaten to bury the meaningful moments of life.
Perhaps you can relate.
In times like these, it’s tempting to throw up my hands and say, “Why fight it? This is just how it is. This is just how it will be.”
But I can’t do that. I just can’t. Here’s why I can’t forget:
I can't forget what it feels like to be in a stadium with thousands of people from around the world watching the 9-11 flag being carried in.
I can't forget what it feels like to have a baby look up at you for the first time, only at you.
I can't forget the feeling of watching my loved one from a distance doing what he loves to do.
I can't forget the feeling of watching my son making me into a mermaid up close, close enough to feel his breath.
I can't forget the feeling of waves crashing under foot.
I can't forget what it feels like to bear my soul and hear the words, “Me, too.”
I can't forget the feeling of soft fingertips pressed against my hand.
I can't forget to notice the morning sun when it peeks over the mountains.
I can't forget to watch bread rise in the oven and feel the comfort that comes from the smell.
My friend, the weight of test anxiety, passing, consequences if not, and worry are heavy. Their pull was strong last night—strong enough to threaten my ability to hear and see what’s important. So I decided to pull up the Division of Occupational and Professional Licensing website and typed in my name. I half closed my eyes before seeing my name with registered nurse next to it.
Today I stared at a fetal heart rate monitor long enough and it all came back to me quickly.