Living At Capacity, Drawing Upon the Infinite

Drawing Upon the Infinite

“What more can Life demand of us than that we do the best that we can and try to improve?”

— Ernest Holmes

My dear friend Carmen Mays sent this to me today. The message originated from Rev. Walt Brewer and is reprinted with permission. It is not the usual kind of Iconic Woman post, but as I read, and re-read it I thought it was a message my Inconvenient Women would like to share.

Many of my readers’ lives are ‘at capacity’. Some of us are caring for children who are experiencing health challenges. Many of my readers are caring for elderly parents. A growing number of my Inconvenient Women are young firebrands, determined to change a flawed health care system through co-operative activism (Bless you). Based on my email, a lot of you are just trying to figure out, “What on earth is happening to my body?”

The common thread of your emails and letters is I don’t know if I can find the capacity to do more. You have shared with me, “I’m at the end of my rope. I’m doing the best I can. There are days I just want to go into my closet and cry.”

I understand being “at or over capacity.”  In 1967, my healthy 18-month old son received his DTP vaccine shot. 24-hours later, I carried my son, in a blood-soaked diaper, into a hospital emergency room. Eventually he was diagnosed with nephrotic syndrome, a disorder in which the kidneys are damaged, causing them to leak large amounts of protein from the blood into the urine. The Mount Sinai Hospital pediatric unit was at a loss as to why, in the past month, they had seen more babies being admitted with nephrotic syndrome than in the previous several years. All of the children had developed symptoms within 48-hrs of their DTP inoculation. It was the only common denominator. For the next 6 years, my son was in and out of the kidney unit, often taking experimental drugs. He suffered min-stokes and was left with some brain damage. He was in physical therapy for years, working to reestablish, gross motor control and tactical response. He was left with dyslexia, and shattered self-image after a teacher called him stupid in front of his class. It was a private school, and yes, I got the teacher fired, but the damage was done. It broke my heart as Tom struggled every day of his school and adult life. I love Tom very much and am proud of how he has met the challenges of his life.  But saying that my dears, I understand when you write me about ‘being at capacity.”

I’m grateful for everyone of my readers, you represent the Three Phases of Woman, Maiden, Mother and Wise Woman. I hope you enjoy this message as much as I did.

Drawing Upon the Infinite

We will tell others that we are doing the best that we can as an explanation as why something isn’t done or isn’t working.  Often that is only an excuse, and one that we know is hard to argue with.  If someone is really trying to their capacity, how could we ask anything more?

Stretching to our capacity and our understanding is how we expand our capacity and our understanding.  Just as physical exercise tests the limits of our muscles and our endurance.

But too often we are not really doing the best that we can.  We may actually be trying hard or we may have been caught not really trying all that hard.

When you think about it, as expressions of the Infinite, our best is much, much bigger than we typically describe it.  Our ‘best’ is simply our current level of ability, which is based upon our recent experiences and experiments.  Our current level of understanding and identity is the filter through which we accept or decline invitations to greatness.

So when you’re trying and it’s not quite getting there, stop, step back and see how much more you really are.  As an expression of the Infinite, see how deep, profound and powerful you really are.  You are not drawing upon your historical abilities, you are drawing upon the Infinite, and that’s a lot.


Author: H. Sandra Chevalier-Batik

I started the Inconvenient Woman Blog in 2007, and am the product of a long line of inconvenient women. The matriarchal line is French-Canadian, Roman Catholic, with a very feisty Irish great-grandmother thrown in for sheer bloody mindedness. I am a research analyst and author who has made her living studying technical data, and developing articles, training materials, books and web content. Tracking through statistical data, and oblique cross-references to find the relevant connections that identifies a problem, or explains a path of action, is my passion. I love clearly delineating the magic questions of knowledge: Who, What, Why, When, Where and for How Much, Paid to Whom. My life lessons: listen carefully, question with boldness, and personally verify the answers. I look at America through the appreciative eyes of an immigrant, and an amateur historian; the popular and political culture is a ceaseless fascination. I have no impressive initials after my name. I’m merely an observer and a chronicler, an inconvenient woman who asks questions, and sometimes encourages others to look at things differently.