You Can Do Hard Things
“You
can do hard things.” ~ Barbara Kingsolver
You
can do hard things. I write these words every day in my journal. They are on my
whiteboard with other quotes and notes of things to do—most of them easy.
You
can do hard things. Most days I don’t have to do hard things. I often think
things are hard, but those are things I don’t want to do, like clean the
garage, take the trash and recycling cans to the street, or sit down a pay
bills when it often seems the money doesn’t quite stretch far enough.
You
can do hard things. Sometimes these words are a reminder that I can do hard
things (and indeed I have). In these years of what I call my life, I have done
hard things. I have said goodbyes to family members, husbands, places I called
home, and most difficult of all—the hardest hard thing—I said a final goodbye
to my child.
You
can do hard things. When faced with hard things—divorce, loss of income, a
cross-country or even across-town move, a dear friend’s betrayal, the death of
someone dear—our first visceral reaction is, “I can’t do this. It’s too hard.”
You can do hard
things. Facing loss, a move, a betrayal, the end of a marriage, death of a
beloved pet or person—all are hard things. Ernest Hemingway said, “The
world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”
It’s the hard things we think we cannot do that break us. But in doing those
hard things, most of us do become stronger at the broken places.
You can
do hard things. Fear of doing hard things is natural. We shy away; we
stumble from the weight of carrying hard things. But fear, looking away,
and the aching arms of carrying the weight do not remove hard things from our
lives. Staring down that fear, looking at it straight on, and carrying the
weight of trials no matter how sore our arms get also do not remove hard
things from our lives. Taking those actions, does, however, prove to us that we
can do hard things.
You can
do hard things. Nobody wants to do the difficult tasks that life hands us. It
is only in doing them that we realize we can do hard things. It is only in
doing them that we can learn to have a bit less fear when once again—as will
happen as long as we breathe—hard things step into our path. If we want to walk
forward, our only choice is to pick up whatever hard thing we’re handed, carry
it, and continue on our path. It is only then that we will know that we can do
hard things. It is only then that we can reassure others that they, too, can do
hard things. It is then that we can say not only to ourselves, but also to
others:
You can do hard things.
