sadness

All the Feels Week 5: Disgust

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

“OMG, WTH, EWWWWW!” Name something that elicits a response of “Eww, Gross!”
When we discussed Feelings vs. Emotions in week 1, we learned that emotions are visceral reactions that we can’t necessarily stifle. Disgust might be one of those–ever hear this phrase?


Biologically, Disgust can actually protect us (paraphrased from Yahoo! search):

  • Pathogen Shield: Evolved to keep humans away from rotting food, waste, blood, and disease vectors.
  • Moral & Social Signal: Extends beyond physical items to reject unfairness, cruelty, or the betrayal of trust.
  • Sensitivity Differences: People have varying thresholds, meaning some are easily triggered while others remain unaffected.

There are a lot–a LOT–of things that can elicit the response, verbally & well, facially, of disgust. I am “disgusted” by things like stepping in dog poo, eating lima beans, touching something & getting sticky when I’m not expecting it–those are just a few things that I will lose my professionalism over, real quick-like (remind me to tell you the story about the lizard in the living room–yikes!). I think we have all experienced the feeling of being disgusted by something at one point or another (especially if you’ve had kids). Althought the emotion of being disgusted is fleeting, the feeling of disgust can actually be quite toxic & permeate many areas of our lives, throwing us into a “sin spiral” that is consequential.

Biblically, Disgust goes under a few synonyms depending on your translation. “Abomination,” “Loathing,” “Vile,” or “Odious” are found in some translations (personally, any chance I have to use the word “odious” is a win), I usually think about the book of Psalms as a great way to find “disgusting” examples of things in scripture but the truth is, it’s everywhere. We’re kind of a disgusting breed, LOL….how DOES He love us?!?!?

Physically, we learn & we know there are things that push us to that limit, & we generally avoid those things (lima beans). Spiritually, however, we sometimes become fascinated with the things we know are morally abhorrent, & we find ourselves caught in the trap of wanting to know more, and more, and more, until we realize we’re caught in a terrible web only God can free us from. It’s a very dangerous thing to let our curiosity lead us into the territory of “hath God not said?” instead of simply being satisfied with not knowing, but trusting, that God has forbidden some things in His Word.

Deuteronomy 12 discusses this with the Children of Israel (shout-out to Robert in my class who provided this example):

29 “When the Lord your God cuts off and destroys before you the nations which you are going in to dispossess, and you dispossess them and settle in their land, 30 beware that you are not lured (ensnared) into following them, after they have been destroyed before you, and that you do not inquire about their gods, saying, ‘How did these nations serve their gods, so that I too may do likewise?’

The Israelites were commanded to keep their curiosity in check, because the old proverb is right: It killed the cat. I am easily That Cat, and I have to be careful to monitor what I read and query because it sucks me in. Discussing the topic of Disgust is not intended to spiral into a competition of who can tell the worst story or give the worst example, or who is the holiest, etc. Our conversations have to balance compassion & empathy with the parameters of the Word, under the banner and protection of His love & discernment. Sometimes, that means you need to take a gentle step away from the convesation.

I personally sort-of dreaded the topic of Disgust, because I didn’t want it to lean into the drama of listing sins or issues that disgust us. My concern is that it could lead to being judgmental or arrogant; I also didn’t want to inadvertently list a sin that could lead someone into gossip or questioning the moral character of another. I find that certain topics kick off my imagination & it’s a tough time to get it corralled, so I want to tread lightly but still remain transparent. I think everyone has different areas of conviction in some areas–maybe the thought of someone scarfing down a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in a gluttonous bender is disgusting to you & you turn up your nose at it, while someone else realizes they’ve gone on that bender because they emotionally can’t process trauma &–we all have varying thresholds, & I want to be empathetic & compassionate, looking at things that cause us to be disgusted–NOT judgmental–through the lens of God’s ultimate parameters. We have to be able to be accountable to one another in love, but not in reasoning out their issue or in any kind of judgment.

A quick Google search defined biblical disgust as: *“a moral and spiritual reaction to sin, idolatry, and rebellion against God:

  • Divine Disgust (Abominations): God expresses revulsion toward moral corruption, false idols, and unjust behavior. In Proverbs 6:16-19, the Lord specifically detests seven things, including lying tongues, hands that shed innocent blood, and sowing discord.
  • Human Disgust Toward Evil: Believers are called to feel a deep moral aversion to sin. Romans 12:9 instructs Christians to “abhor what is evil” and “cling to what is good.” Similarly, the Psalmist in Psalm 119:158 expresses being disgusted by the treacherous who ignore God’s word.
  • Physical and Ceremonial Aversion: Disgust also appears in everyday or ritual contexts, such as the foul smell of the Nile during the plagues of Egypt (Exodus 7:18) or dietary and ritual laws regarding uncleanness.
  • Rejection and Isolation: Prophets like Ezekiel and Nahum describe nations or people turning away from others in disgust due to judgment, ruin, or betrayal (e.g., Ezekiel 23:28, Nahum 3:7).

*Resource: https://biblestudyforyou.com/bible-verses-about-disgust/

This blog by South Fellowship gave a great insight on one of the most frequently listed results of Disgust in the New Testament:

Revelation 3:14-16 discusses the church in Laodecea, who were complacent. They had fallen out of love with Jesus and HIs teachings, living a boring, milktoast life: These are the words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the ruler of God’s creation. I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. (Revelation 3:14-16) NIV

Lukewarm water is nasty…but when you look at the culture, it’s even more of a tangible description of just how disgusting the nature of this body had become. The writer of the blog notes that the water in the city would have come from aqueducts from far away, picking up dirt, sediment, and the temperature of the Middle-Eastern countries. If you were used to it, no worries; for a visitor though, it would be gross! Nothing’s worse than thinking you’re getting a cool, refreshing gulp of water on a hot day & getting dirty, lukewarm ugh. I can’t imagine how gross it must have been & I don’t want to.

This church was surrounded by wealth & culture; the author of the blog notes they were the only one of the 7 in Revelation that were not facing persecution. Satan doesn’t bother unproductive people, so they were sitting high-&-mighty, quietly considering themselves part of the Body while embracing the corruption around them.

The warning Jesus gives the church is far more aggressive than we like to think in our modernized culture; He is literally saying He’s gonna barf these people out! I can think of nothing more offensive than serving someone & having them barf it right back up at you–He is OVER their attitudes and nonchalant treatment of His words and His sacrifice, & He is making a strong statement that it’s time to stop riding the fence. It’s a warning we need to carry in our hearts daily, to keep us burning passionately for the King! So, how do we do that? How do we avoid being disgusting to Jesus?!?

I wish this was an easy answer, & there are certainly a lot of blogs that make it out to be a 1-2-3 Easy Step version. The facts are that we are surrounded by distractions that want us to do anything but worship the Lord. From our phones to our laptops and TVs, etc, we are inundated with things that pull our attention & our eyes away from Jesus. We have to make a concentrated, daily effort to seek Jesus in who we are and what we do.

  1. Daily time with God: This is an expected answer because it is a required discipline. You can’t ignore a garden & expect it to have an easy harvest (if any at all); maintenance has to happen. Stagnant & marriages come from a lack of communication & transparency; our relationship with Jesus is the same.
  2. Fellowship and community with other believers: We lift each other up; we hold up each other’s arms when we’re weary. We hold one another accountable, & we build relationships based on seeing one another grow…again, with transparency and with genuine kindness and care.
  3. Regular worship–you can’t be disgusted & lukewarm when you’re worshipping Him! If the style of music isn’t to your liking, find one that is because it’s out there!!!! And worshipping in community is a beautiful, bonding thing!
  4. Relationship, Commitment, & Service: Building relationships through fellowship & community keeps our eyes focused on Him. Being committed to time spent with other believers is fuel for your fire! And acts of service are how we sustain the physical needs of the body while eliminating the need to outsource & support those that do not share our mission of covering the world with HIs Good News.

It’s easy to become lukewarm–all you have to do is isolate, ignore the Bible, stop talking to God, and be completely self-absorbed. Staying in a sustained on-fire relationship with Jesus takes constant awareness, discernment, and leaning on the Holy Spirit. Being passionate for Jesus doesn’t mean you’re running around with pom-pons, cheering & yelling Bible verses; being passionate for Jesus means your faith is never so mundane that those around you wonder if you’re actually a Christian. It means you’re aware of the culture but not IN the culture; it means you, however God uses you, are in the culture only so much as to CHANGE the culture.

You’re not lukewarm–you’re not getting spewed out–if you’re burning passion is to serve Jesus with your entire heart. 🙂

Hi.

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment

In the words of the Blessed Backstreet Boys (paraphrased), “OhmyGosh, I’m back again….”

I realized I hadn’t written or published anything since March of 2023—that’s a really, really long time to lay something down, and there’s a lot behind the whys-&-the-hows, but let’s just say that my priorities got out of line…my spiritual walk got a little loopy…and life got really, really busy. Between wrestling with theology, work commitments, and having former friends stab me in the back, twist the knife, laugh while I bled, and kick me off of the bridge (nah, I’m not bitter), it’s been a minute. 😊

I had a management position that I loved…I had the best boss of my life…I had a team of employees that I worked hard to build rapport & transparency with…and then I didn’t. After my manager was unceremoniously disposed of by an institution he worked for over 20 years, a former friend of mine became my manager. In full transparency, it was a trainwreck, & I fell apart from a mixture of straight-up bullying/gaslighting, a lack of support, an overload of work, and my own lack of respect for the position this person had attained. Combine this with an employee who valued her own emotional preening over the truth, & you have an untenable situation that I gladly walked away from (truthfully, I would have gone on in that toxic situation until the stress killed me. I don’t have a lot of “quit” in me. However, I found myself facing a choice that didn’t really leave me much of an option, along with a son who point-blank asked me “why are you doing this to yourself?!?” He was right). The anxiety absolutely crushed me; the loss of the position crushed me. And as I have so often done in my life, I found myself face-down on the couch, crying out to God: “Where else can I go?” (You can read the previous blog post for more on this quote that I may as well get tattooed on my face.)

Once the decision was made, I felt like a huge weight that I hadn’t even realized was there, lifted off of my shoulders. “This isn’t punitive,” said the Lord. “It’s deliverance.” And He was right—my theology, particularly in the absence of attending church regularly, had begun to get muddled. Loving people out of one’s own resources rather than out of an abundance of the Holy Spirit meant that I was trying to pour out of an empty cup. I was trying to sustain the mental & spiritual energy it takes to guard my heart while reaching out to others. When you don’t strengthen your armor through prayer & support, it gets weak, and “hath God not said,” gets pretty strong in your mind…

Thus began my #AdventuresInUnemployment this fall.

David & I have had random periods of unemployment throughout our almost-20 years of marriage, but honestly, I’d not been out of work since 2008, & the world has CHANGED in regard to finding a position. I struggled with an identity crisis—did I still want to be in management? Nope, not for a minute. PTSD can be defined as a persistent, anxiety-inducing issue that lasts more than 45 days, & believe me, I had work-related PTSD. This position was not my first management position, but it was in education, & I just didn’t have the foundation I needed to do what I wanted & needed to do. I didn’t have the support to manage well or to understand the expectations, & I spent more time caring about my employees than pushing them beyond what they wanted to do. I have no regrets about leaving my own comfort zone in healthcare & transitioning to education, but I do have regrets about not voicing real issues over voicing the emotions those issues elicited. I have regrets about not setting personal boundaries…about all of the nights & the weekends I spent supporting departments & programs and cleaning up messes…about spending half of my vacation answering emails, & about the anxiety I let build up that suffocated my joy. I have regrets about not protecting myself, and ultimately, about not protecting my family from the burnt-out mess I became.

In a beautiful, glorious tapestry that only looked messy to us at the time, David lost his job last spring. He found another one just before school started, & then I lost my job in the fall. The next few months would change our lives…

In August, we received a phone call that my mother-in-law went on hospice. My brother-in-law & my sister-in-law gave up everything to move in with my in-laws to take care of her, along with my father-in-law (who had dementia, as did my MIL).

In November, my brother-in-law died unexpectedly, & we were devastated. My husband lost his best friend; we lost the most giving, kind man we’d ever known. And on top of that, we lost my mother-in-law’s caregiver, who understandably needed to take time to mourn the shock of losing her spouse of close to 40 years.

We utilized a hospice benefit so we could hold Eugene’s funeral & temporarily placed my MIL into a nursing home…where she broke her femur. We began the process of finding a place for her to recover, even as she continued to struggle with hallucinations & the delusions of dementia.

In December, I received a call from my biological dad’s caregiver & friend, Tammy: “Your dad’s in the hospital, okay?” Me: “Well, really, what’s new? I’ll come up and see him in the morning.” I had a huge interview that day…the kind of interview where you go Business Formal, you suit up, you psych yourself up. The position was thiiiiiiiis close, and this was my last step to a salary & a position that could restore so much to my family & put me back in community service….I finished the interview and drove out to the county hospital…where I discovered my father was in the ICU & was dying of congestive heart failure, COPD, and cirrhosis of the liver.

I wasn’t ready.

I used to say that whenever my biological father died, I’d not shed a tear. This, as it turns out, is a lie. I was devastated.

I was devastated at the loss of a potential relationship. I was devastated at the loss of a terrible relationship. I was devastated at the time that was wasted to abandonment, addiction & abuse. I was devastated by his own admission that he was a terrible man—which we all knew–& I was devastated to be the one to call my sister to come & say goodbye.

Two years ago, God called me to reach out to him & to try to restore communication. It was HARD—I was angry, & I had to hand all of that over to God even as I unpacked it all & processed it with therapy & prayer. I loved my phone calls with Dad—neither one of us likes to talk on the phone—they were short-&-sweet, & he always ended with, “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, Daddy.”

Even typing this, I can feel the tears fall. I won’t get to hear that again this side of Heaven…but I know my Dad knew Jesus. Broken, ornery, abusive, & straight-up wretched—he made his confession of faith, & Jesus welcomed him Home. For those that Fred hurt, they may not be happy to hear that, but I sure am, because we’re all the same in the eyes of God.

I got to see my sister say goodbye…I got to see my dad lay eyes on the daughter he hadn’t seen in 13 years, & I will never, ever forget what that looked like. My son got to say goodbye to a grandfather he’d gotten to meet (which I had once said would never happen). Even my husband got to say goodbye, & my best friend, Vinita, supported us through the entire journey (as did her husband, Casey—he took care of Jericho during our last day with Dad, & I will never forget that).

My dad died without pain, surrounded by his kids (& Vinita, who’s a bonus sister), 90’s country music, prayer, & knowing he was loved. He didn’t die alone—that was so important to me, as I’ve lost 2 uncles who died alone in their home, & I didn’t want that for my father. Does anyone deserve the dedication of people who surround them in their going-home, as long as it takes?

Yes. Yes, we do—NO ONE deserves to die alone. Everyone deserves a human presence next to them, praying them into eternity. That’s a gift, & I am so, so thankful my sister, my best friend, & I got to give that to my Dad.

I wound up getting a different job than the one I’d had the “big” interview with, & I’m back in healthcare again. I may wind up going back into management after I learn the business part of this new organization; I love that I get to combine education & healthcare, & that I’m doing something I’m marginally familiar with while learning alllllllllll kinds of new things. I’m realizing that the stress of my previous position literally short-circuited my brain & affected my health to the point that I was starting to wonder if I had a neurological condition.

News flash: I don’t, at least, where my brain is affected. 😊 I was just overworked & unsupported. It matters.

Having those weeks of unemployment allowed me time to get my thoughts in order…to focus on healing, on what I did wrong, where I could improve, what I needed to do in regards to my career….I focused on organizing the house, learning new recipes, and FINALLY, on how to cook the perfect chicken breast. I feel like even as I was dealing with trauma on multiple levels, the time I had gave me an outlet to rediscover my joy in everyday life. I LIKE organizing things. I LIKE cooking new recipes. I LIKE having my house in order, building shelves, and getting things sorted out. I like my solitude, and my time to cry/laugh/talk to God.

We went back to church. We found a small congregation close to home that keeps us in the community, has denominational support & accountability, and has solid leadership. We’re still working on introducing ourselves (we got waylaid with the flu that took us out for 3 weeks in February), but I think there’s a lot of potential there. It’s healing to be in a body of people that worship together…

But we weren’t done with trauma, it seems….

In January, we received a phone call that my father-in-law was left unattended in his home & fell down the stairs. He passed away, & our family was devastated. Three major losses in three months, on top of David’s mother being on hospice & my starting a new job…then the flu…fighting Medicare for coverage in the nursing home & dealing with taking over administrative tasking for my in-laws…issues in my family stemming from my father’s death that I don’t even understand & still have me reeling…There’s a repeated theme in my life of abandonment & silence when behaviors are not what is expected, & being on the receiving end of it so many times, is excruciating…but seeing my child on the receiving end of it, is so much more than infuriating.

I’m struggling with loss, with anger & sadness & grief. I’m frustrated, worried about my husband, & fighting the urge to wrap my arms around my son & protect him from everyone-&-everything to an extreme.

I’m working my way out of the wilderness & I suspect it will be a very long time until I feel the branches part….but the beautiful thing in the mess is that I know, even if I die in this wilderness, I’m not alone. I’m “leaning on my Beloved,” per Song of Solomon 8:5.

So, where do things stand? I’ve just written over 2,000 words about the utter s—show our lives have been for the last few months, but here I sit, grinning like a Cheshire cat as I type this line.

THERE IS STILL JOY. We’re still laughing, and every chuckle is a giant flip-off to the demons that circle to steal the peace God has poured over us. We are drowning, but we’re laughing at the hair in our eyes as we cling to the life raft of God’s love. We don’t know when or how we’re going to get our feet back under us, but we’ll hold each other’s hand & fall down together. We got into an argument last night that lasted all of 10 minutes & ended with a hug—we’re broken, loud, ridiculous, & we’re basically walking disasters, but We Belong to Jesus, & we know He has us in His hands.

“The human world—it’s a mess.” Sebastian is RIGHT. It’s messy. Our son is 12—he’s almost a teenager—and he actually keeps us grounded when we’re extra-ridiculous. He keeps our sense of humor rolling at the most inappropriate times, & sometimes it’s hard for me to reprimand the sass when I’m snorting back a roar. It’s hard to bawl when you’ve been Rick-Rolled for the 75th time that week, I mean, c’mon….

We’re in The Waiting as to how we heal, what happens next, and how we put one foot in front of another. We’re leaning on our Beloved. We’re (generally) laughing with each other and occasionally foraying into Trash TV because it’s mind-numbingly pacifying. We’re getting ready for Baseball Season (woohoo) & I am so, so grateful to be employed, especially with it being something I enjoy & with management that is supportive and patient.

We’re resting in the Lord as much as we can. We’ll move forward; we’ll occasionally take a step backwards. We’ll mourn & laugh, & we’ll look at each other a few years from now and say, “how in the world did we get here?!?” (We do that now, in all honesty).

And most of all, we’ll continue to be thankful for the support of friends and family, physical and spiritual, who give us the “grace to grieve” & the space to process…

We’re grateful.

We miss you every day, Dads and Eugene. Hold Hannah for us, give my Grandma a hug,  & save us a seat…

A Time To Mourn…AKA, “Speaking Christianese Never Made A Heart Heal Faster”

/ Cassidy S. Cooley / Leave a comment
You can’t slap a Bible-verse Band-Aid over a severed limb and expect the bleeding to stop.
Healing is a PROCESS–it’s not instantaneous, and it isn’t pretty. Sometimes, we have to take in the full extent of the injury or the loss before healing can even begin. Things take time to process..realizations and understandings come in phases, and we don’t get it all at once, therefore, we can’t process it all at once.
The thing about Jesus, though, is that He meets us where we are in the process. Day by day, hour by hour, He meets us, and He welcomes our honesty. We don’t have to put a smile on our faces and fake it with Him; it’s useless, anyways. No one knows us better, so why do we try to act like we’re fine? There is no weakness in the truth.
Things happen in our lives that reshape every perspective or opinion that we’ve held, but our foundation remains the same. Jesus doesn’t change. His Word says there is “a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” It doesn’t mean that we speed through one to get to the other…it means there is a TIME for each process. It doesn’t mean we avoid one and focus on the other; it means that we endure one and we know we have a hope for the other.
Autumn is always a sensitive time of the year for me. It’s not a time of falling back into those initial days of the heaviest of grieving processes, but it is a time of respecting that you know what? Certain days are going to affect me more than others.  I’ve had a few conversations lately that have reminded me that grief, for any reason, is grief, and it has a process that must be respected.  I’m reminded of a conversation that I’ve referenced  before, but I feel like I need to go back to it:
Around 2 weeks after my daughter passed away, David & I finally made our way back into church. While there, I was having a noticeably difficult time (I suck at trying not to cry), and I went to sit in the lobby. A prominent woman in the church came up to me and hugged me, and said, “Are you better, now?”
I nearly slapped her.
I don’t remember what I said back to her, but the conversation has stuck in my brain as indicative of how Christians handle the process of grieving.
We. Are. Terrible. At. Grief.
It makes sense. I mean, c’mon, every worship song we sing focuses on joy and peace and happiness and glory and awesome and blahblahblahblabityblah. It’s all true. We serve an amazing, glorious, fantastic Lord Who loves us, so what’s not to celebrate?
We have this extremely arrogant tendency to coat our sorrows in Bible Verses, like the paper they’re printed on is going to magically paper-mache a lead balloon and make it float.
You can throw Bible verses at someone all day long, and yes–there IS life in the Word. However, read the room–don’t throw Scripture at a starving man. Feed him first, then tell him about Jesus. Acknowledge the broken heart (yours or someone else’s) with compassion and empathy, not with counter-attacks and guilt-inducing Christianese.
We’re so programmed to put on that joy that we forget that true joy is there, in the grieving process itself. We don’t have to bypass grief to hang onto joy. Joy is there, in the darkest of times, providing the guiding line to lead us out of the cave of heaviness and depression. Joy doesn’t always mean that we smile and dance…joy sometimes means that we lean into the comfort of our Savior, and that we know He is PRESENT in all things.
In the darkest days of my life, I can look back and see that silver thread of joy that is woven through the tapestry. I can see it through the rage; I can see it through the tears. I can see it becoming ever brighter as I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, and I can see it with me even now as I deal with personal battles. Joy is not always expressed as laughter. Joy is sometimes a gentle strength that shows up as an anchor in the waves that want to drown you.
The Fruits of the Spirit (I’ve always thought of that as a funny way to word those characteristics. And now the song is in my head. GAH!!) work together in our lives in many, many ways, but in times of grief or crisis, they really shine the brightest if we let them. The love of Jesus pours over us, capturing every tear we cry. His joy stands firm in the face of sadness that wants to encompass us. His Peace–peace is so, so hard to come by in a crisis, but it’s there. Sometimes it comes when you’ve cried your last tear, and you’re exhausted and can do nothing but sleep. Sometimes it comes when you look at someone’s face that you know understands you, and you see their expression and that they “get you.” Their compassion and empathy give you the peace of understanding without words–that’s huge.
His patience–He is patient with our grieving process, and He gives us permission to take our time. He is kind–Jesus doesn’t get angry with us for being sad or broken. He’s good–He wants us to bring our pain to Him, and He loves our faith. He loves that we believe in Him enough to bring Him our burdens…
He is gentle…He doesn’t rush in to distract us from dealing with our crises, but He loves us like a Father.
The world takes us from drama to drama at an alarming pace. We stay in permanent crisis mode, or in a permanently-hyper-emotional state. The church tries to tell us we should focus on being frenetically joyful all the time, while the world tells us we should be in full-blown Jersey-Shore Drama Mode all of the time (I’ve never actually seen the show, but I don’t think I have to).
Life is somewhere in the middle.
The shortest verse in the Bible acknowledges that Jesus Himself cried when His friend died, even though He knew He was about to raise His friend back to life again. He still grieved, even though He had that hope and that expectation. Why?
Because He was fully God, but also fully Man, and He felt the grief and the loss, even in the eyes of Hope.
We are allowed to weep for a time (“How long?” I don’t know. Ask the person who’s had their arm cut off, how long it takes to get used to not having an arm…to using a prosthesis….to having phantom nerve pains, or physical therapy, or re-learning how to tie their shoes. That’s how long.).
We are allowed our time to mourn (“How deeply?” I don’t know. Hobart Vann once said to me that I would know I was through the healing process of losing my daughter when I could talk about it without crying. That took a while, and it took me a while to understand what he meant and why that was so important. You have to be able to tell the story and point it back to the love of Jesus. It might seem impossible, at first, but it can be done, and when you can do it and you mean it wholeheartedly, you can do it with joy. That takes a while).
And one day…maybe nearer or farther away than we can comprehend…we will see our way back to our time to dance.