joy: lost and found

i remember watching the movie hook as a kid. it was one of about 200 or so titles that the caribbean mercy had accumulated over the years from various donations. in nine years of sailing, we cycled through a lot of them.

one of the characters in the movie, a lost boy - and of course i can't remember his name - had lost his marbles. i'm sure if i watched it again now, i'd pick up on the irony that such a predicament was supposed to cast over his character, but as a child, i just remember feeling really sorry that he had lost his favorite toys. the scene where he finally gets them back was one of my favorites, that and when julia roberts as tinkerbell (who would have pegged that one?) gives robin williams as peter pan a good talking to or the imaginary food fight turned real.

in any case, i've felt a bit like that lost boy these past few weeks. the process of adjusting to this new in-between i find myself in was interrupted by a wonderful ten days spent in seattle with some of my closest friends from college. while enitrely blissful, i wrapped myself in the ignorance of how challenging this change might be for me, weaving a delightful cocoon that blocked the hurt and disappointment from my emotional field.

coming back to texas, it was a whirlwind of a few days before i found myself sitting in this office with an entirely new set of day-to-day responsibilities and realities. instead of falling into step alongside other new nurses eager to start their own careers, with the impossible dynamism of youth, my colleagues are much different. caught between high school students working the coffee shop counter as a summer job and the older professionals who fill the ranks of finance and accounting. instead of dealing with patients, i deal with hotel guests and hungry customers.

somewhere in there, i got bogged down. somewhere in there, i lost my marbles. i lost my joy. more deeply, i lost the ability to see potential in my new coworkers as peers, worthy of an honest conversation and a level of friendship. i was so busy looking back on the life i thought i would be leading right about now that i lost sight of people like janet and joyce - beautiful older women who work happily to serve those around them. i lost my vision for their inspiration, their example, and the (many) lessons i could learn from them and others like them.

i don't begin to profess that i have "found my marbles." at least not fully. i'm beginning to see that they were lost, and they are worth the effort of finding. there will still be days when i am frustrated, overwhelmed, and absolutely ready to throw in the towel. but i'm beginning to realize also that perhaps this is my life. it's time to live it.