The Night is Darkest Before the Dawn or Life is like an Onion

It took a blackout literally for me to see the sun shining through the clouds. This past year has been a mixture of many things, for all the highs and lows it felt like I was always chasing joys that seemed to be just out of reach. Living in a house with several other women has, in reflection, been a beautiful challenge. We're all so different but so similar at the same time - we know how to bless each other and how to push each others buttons. I guess that's the beauty of true community living though. You fully open yourself to be vulnerable with others- as they open up so do you. Well you can or you can choose to not and suffer the consequences of either isolation or too much pride that leads to bitterness- like biting into an onion instead of cooking it into the meal. (That sweet, but subtle flavor of onions spices up the best meals - you know when it's there and when it's not.)

I never understood why people cried at movies or when they cut onions. But then I realized that onions are so tightly packed with nutrients and other good stuff that to force it open releases all this instantly in to the air. etc. It can be too much to handle all at once. Just like that climatic moment in the movies - just the right good stuff at the right time can overwhelm the senses. You can also peel those layers back one by one... which is I think more like real life.

We have those movie moments in real life that just make us cry as we're overwhelmed by it all, but then there's life at the regular pace where we peal back bit by bit to discover more of who we are as we work multiple jobs, maintain friendships, get involved in the community, pay bills, clean house. When we figure out another layer we sit back and smile or question or cry as we find that release in the midst of juggling. I think these are moments outside our space-time continuum, where for a moment time stands still. Just like that moment right before the dawn and the moment dawn breaks. There is a realization that it's a dark place but the hope of the promised daybreak makes that moment part of an adventure. It's a challenge to go through it and you know you'll be stronger after.

This year living in our house has been a challenge for me and only now would I call it an adventure. -They're great girls but the mix of people leaves it all like a wild card each day. Anyway as we sat in the absolute dark in our living room with the power out deciding what we should do something changed. We all shared and all compromised to find a good fit for a plan in the dark. We soon were all on our way to a local diner to stay cool and find something for everyone - raisin toast, fruit and baked oatmeal, a drink to take the edge off, and an omelet with the fixings. Talking and laughing louder than anyone else in the diner about our crazy weeks and crazier waiter, the dawn broke. Suddenly the light shed on the fact that we'd actually all become friends that genuinely cared about each other, our work and life situations, and wanted to spend our dark time together. It was like cracking open an onion to find joy suddenly fill the area.

I'd been chasing the promise of joy and suddenly found it upon me. We came back and did a little bit of everything (that you can do in the dark anyways), shadow puppets, flashlight mini-dance party and a movie as we waited for the electric to come back on. We went our separate ways when it did, but not without knowing we were all a little bit closer.