“Feminism is my second favorite F-word.” I laughed out loud at my friend’s t-shirt. Yeah, I thought, I have a favorite F-word, too. (I don’t say it in front of my mother.)
Today I’m thinking about other F-words…
And the one that I hear from myself much too often these days: Fine.
“How are you, Paige?” I’m fine—as in, genuinely alright, okay, adequate, functional (another F-word!). There is nothing catastrophic to report. Basic needs are being met. Critical responsibilities fulfilled.
The people in our family are generally healthy, we’re housed, we’re fed.
There are even moments of joy and learning and frivolity.
There are more than the accustomed moments of worry and weariness and whining. There’s less vigor and enthusiasm and creativity.
I know I’m not alone in feeling merely fine. I know the past 18 months have been uniquely affecting for most of us. I know life is likely never again to be the same as what I accepted as “normal” two years ago.
And so I turn to another F-word: Faith.
Faith that together we—the family and friends that surround me, our local community, UUCC, humanity in general—do have what we need to heal, to thrive, to embrace life with vigor again. Maybe I’m not feeling it on a particular day, but I trust that not all is lost.
Feminism is one of my favorite F-words.
And I really like that one my mother doesn’t want to hear.
And today I’m choosing to accept the reality of being fine, while also embracing faith in what lies ahead.