Compassion

. . . Compassion is my word for 2022

I’ve been picking a word to concentrate on for my year for many years. I like to use that word in my monthly wrap up — sometimes with a quote, sometimes with a song. It just keeps that word in my mind all year long.

I do think it’s great for runners to have a focus for the year — although my word this year (mostly) has nothing to do with running.

I’m linking up with My First 5K and More, Running With Attitude, Runs with Pugs, Zenaida and Run Laugh Eat Pie for Fit Five Friday. Today I’m sharing 5 reasons Compassion is my word for 2022.

Compassion: sympathetic ~~pity~~ and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others

1: Compassion for my sister
My sister lives the closest to my mom, and much falls on her shoulders, It gets to her no matter how much I help out. Sometimes, too, I think she does things because she feels guilty, even when I try to make the burden easier for her. Let’s just say I also bear the brunt of a lot of venting. I try hard to be compassionate to her, even when the going gets tough.

img_0298-1 — **In happier times (her 90th birthday, my Dad was still alive)**

2: Compassion for my mom
No matter how rough our lives are, there’s no doubt that my mom’s life is 100 times rougher. Yet dealing with her isn’t always easy, either. I struggle with keeping her spirits up, as she is understandably depressed and anxious at times.

I try to keep compassion front and center, and can only hope that when my time comes, there is someone in my life to do the same. Not having kids definitely makes you wonder how you will get through the aging years.

3: Compassion for Mr. Judy
I have been gone a lot in the last six months, and I only see it happening more as we move into 2022. It’s not always easy having a stressed out, tired spouse who sometimes can’t think straight, I know. He has had to take over feeding and walking Bandit a lot while I am staying at my moms — although since I’m the one that has always done 90% of that, he’s got a long way to go to catch up!

4: Compassion for Bandit
Poor Bandit. Whenever I leave, he never has a clue how long I’ll be gone. All he wants is to see his pack together. Especially the leader of the pack (me).

5: Last but not least, compassion for myself
I am fairly certain that this won’t be going on for years. When you go on Hospice, it usually means they think you have six months to live, although people sometimes live far longer than that. I know that I’m doing the best I can, but it’s hard when you feel like you’re constantly coming up short.

Final Thoughts
I think that there’s a real chance that this chapter in my life will end not that long into 2022, although of course it could go on longer. I struggled a bit with this word, knowing that I might not “need” it that long. It just kept coming up for me over and over again.

Because really is there ever a time you don’t need to be compassionate?

Do you pick a word to focus on for your year?

If you do what is your word for 2022?

Do you remember your word for 2021, if you picked one?

brespectcompassion

Have you seen the memes? The ones about not living your life in fear because of Coronavirus?

This is a highly personal post, and one I put a great deal of thought into. It would be much easier to not to write this post, but in the end, I felt it was important for me to share my feelings.

Fairytales and Fitness

I am not saying you should live your life in fear; of course you should not.

Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.– Marie Curie

How ironic is the above quote from Marie Curie, who died from her work and her quest to understand more. In fact, her body is actually still considered to be radioactive — but I digress.

Being cautious is not the same as being afraid
Some people equate changing your life because of a virus as living in fear. Everyone has different circumstances, and everyone has different comfort levels. Don’t ever assume you know what is going on in someone else’s life unless they tell you or you ask.

Do you have loved ones with high blood pressure? Diabetes? Cancer? Maybe a combination of several of these illnesses? Ones that are also very elderly? I do. Am I afraid of infecting them? Damn right I am. It is my sincere wish that when my mom passes, it’s not after months of being in and out of the hospital/rehab like my dad, or alone because of a virus.

I am not telling you to stop living your life, but please don’t judge me because I changed my life to protect the people I love. It isn’t easy. I’d like life to be normal, too. I’d like to go on vacation, too. I would love to eat inside a restaurant and be served. I’d like to be running with a group. I’d love to go to the movies.

I’ll tell you what else I’d lovee: to see my mom enjoy the years she has left. To see my other loved ones at higher risk be healthy and have many more years ahead of them. We won’t have to live like this forever. We will, as Marie Curie said, learn more. We already have. There are already better treatments.

Like so many diseases before this, such as pneumonia, polio, and AIDs, there will eventually be vaccines or even better treatments that allow us to get back to more normal living. Until that time, though, I remain cautiously optimistic and just plain cautious.

Final Thoughts
I am not telling you how to live your life, and I appreciate you not telling me how to live mine. All I ask is that you respect my feelings, and show me (and those like me) compassion. Reach out to your friends that don’t feel comfortable getting together in groups, whatever their reasons are. It isn’t easy and it can get lonely, too.

Please, please, please show respect and compassion to those have lost loved ones to this virus. Don’t know anyone who has? I do. I know others that do, as well. I am happy that so far, knock on wood, my loved ones are safe, but there are many people who can’t say the same.

No questions today. It’s all food for thought.