Katie Steedly’s first-person piece [The Unspeakable Gift] is a riveting retelling of her participation in a National Institutes of Health study that aided her quest to come to grips with her life of living with a rare genetic disorder. Her writing is superb.
In recognition of receiving the Dateline Award for the Washingtonian Magazine essay, The Unspeakable Gift.
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Being Sad
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The best thing for being sad, replied Merlin, is to learn something. – T.H. White
I have known sadness in my life.
The kind of sadness in which tears flow, my breathing speeds up, and my head hurts. Sadness can fall like a dark cloud, crash like a car into a concrete barrier, or slither like a snake moving toward its prey. Sadness can connect us with one another, invite us to heal, and be an integral part to life’s ebbs and flows.
I don’t consider myself a sad person, in general.
Serious. Yes. Sad. No. When I am sadder than a general malaise or low grade ache, I do a few things: I create something (a meal, a blog post, a flower arrangement). I make a gratitude list (refocusing my thoughts on the positives in my life). I get outdoors (there is something calming there). I connect with someone I have not talked to for a while (connecting alway helps). Finding order helps, too (cleaning, clearing, making space in closets). I am not exactly sure of the connection between this actions and seeing me through sadness. Maybe it has to do with the salve for my soul that all those things are.
I have learned a great deal from letting myself just simply be sad sometimes.
I have learned that fighting or faking my way through sadness does not help me find happiness. It takes as long as it takes. I have learned there is a difference between sadness and misery. Sadness feels necessary. Misery feels optional. Mark Nepo suggests we can use sadness as paint to color the canvas of our lives. I am learning that sadness and joy and anger and excitement and all of it are meant to color the canvas of our lives: the beautiful picture of what it means to be human.
About Katie
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From Louisville. Live in Atlanta. Curious by nature. Researcher by education. Writer by practice. Grateful heart by desire.
Buy the Book!
The Stage Is On Fire, a memoir about hope and change, reasons for voyaging, and dreams burning down can be purchased on Amazon.