It’s been a couple of weeks since i wrote. And not because crazy stuff didn’t happen. i didn’t write, because crazy DID happen – crazy exploded and landed all over me – it just wasn’t funny.

In fact, the only way anything that happened could be construed as funny, was if it were Opposite Day and Groundhog Day combined with a day at the zoo where monkeys throw poop at you. A poop-throwing day that just keeps repeating itself over and over again. A never-ending poop-nado.

And i was caught up in it…flying around helplessly…caught up in the whirlwind of pain and grief and poop. i began to believe it was never going to end and that no-one could ever survive this – especially not me. i just didn’t have the skills. Or the fortitude. Or a hazmat suit.

And then suddenly, it did end.

The sun peeked out from behind the poop-clouds and there was light again. Just a little, but it was there. Enough to show me where the shadows still lay so that i could take a few steps away from the dark (and the poop) and move a little more into the light.

And that’s where i am right now.

And as i look around, standing here in this little patch of sunlight, i can see that poop on me sucks, but poop on the ground turns into fertilizer. And all kinds of things grow better with a little fertilizer. Plants, flowers, trees, and food all grow from fertilized ground.

Granted, this is a LOT of fertilizer. But doesn’t that just mean something even bigger will grow from it? And whether i choose to leave it and walk away or stand here and watch it, things still will grow. SOMETHING will come of this, whether i tend it or not – but it may be even more beautiful if i show it some loving-kindness and wish it well.

All things have beginnings. All things have ends.

Nothing is permanent.

Bright blue-sky days can turn into poop-nados, and stormy, crappy days gradually give way to sun again. We do have the skills, if not the hazmat suit, and we have what it takes to get through anything. The key is to first, survive through the darkness and the flying monkey fecal matter (that makes it sound like actual FLYING monkeys, like in Wizard of Oz, their poop plopping all over the place as they flap around, which works too) and the second is, if at all possible, to learn something and maybe even THRIVE.

Flowers grow from poop and we can too.

So, here is my pledge to you:

My motto in life is that everything is perspective – and anything can be funny if we learn to laugh at ourselves. And laughter heals and brings people together. It also brings us back to ourselves. We learn some of our greatest lessons, from some of our greatest heartaches. This, too, will pass.

But i want it to do more than “pass”. i want to learn from every poop-nado i experience and someday very soon, the gift from this flying-monkey-tastrophe will be evident and i will store this away in the “i’m-actually-thankful-this-happened” file in my mental filing cabinet. And it will become, as everything in my life eventually does, a Happy Catastrophy.

i am going to walk my talk.  i’m going to do something i’ve never done before because i want different results. i’m not going to run blindly away and possibly straight into another poop storm. i’m not going to pretend it’s not there, but i’m also not going to lay down and roll around in it some more so that i can make sure it covers every inch of me and then hold it up like a banner to which i pledge my life.

Because this poop storm does not define me.

And, as i walk further into the sunlight, i’m not going to take it all with me. This time, i’m going to acknowledge that poop just rained down on me and it wasn’t pleasant. But it’s over now, and it can be over. i will let it be over and wish it well and look forward to seeing the flowers grow someday. But for now, it’s time to clean the poop off and let the sun shine in.

Face it with a grin.

Open up your heart and let the sun…shine….in!

(i couldn’t resist.)

Life will be funny again. 

And if you want proof, here is a story i wrote a while ago (and just polished up a bit) about drama and traumas that are hilarious in hindsight. It’s even got monkey references and a nice bedtime story. Laughter on demand.

So for now, here’s to all your dark times and poop-nados. i hope that you, too, will find your patch of sun when the dark comes. i hope that you find your way back to doing what you love (singing, dancing, zookeeping, writing silly blogs) and then find something more that you wouldn’t have found if life was all lollipops and roses. And monkeys in diapers.

And i hope that you will join me in leaving the poop on the ground, to become something new. And better. And beautiful.

Just like you.