Don’t Give Up 5 Minutes Before the Miracle

April 27, 2025

Writing posts for Mindful Musings has not been in the forefront of my mind lately. I continue to journal daily, and I keep up with my personal practices of yoga, meditation and exercise, but my urge to share my writing has been non-existent. Chalk it up to grief or working full-time or my writing class being on hiatus. My hope is that soon, my energy for writing regular posts and moving forward with the book I started before Alex died will return.

A recurring thought has been swirling in my mind for the past few weeks as I have processed some heavy anniversaries and my younger son’s choice to move to Charlottesville to pursue a master’s degree in chemistry. “Don’t give up 5 minutes before the miracle,” keeps popping into my head. This is a common expression in 12-step rooms and has helped me to hang on in times when change was imminent, and I feared that things would not work out the way I wanted them to. Hope has been hard to find amid the disappointment recently, but I am trying to hang on for the silver lining or at least the glimpse of a spectacular view.

As a younger woman I was a runner, and I did a great deal of backpacking in the mountains of Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. I always was excited to set out on a new trail. Looking at the maps and planning my route was thrilling to me and I loved to ponder different paths. Even better were the times I was part of a group, and we planned the run or hike together. Starting out, I would be so excited by the scenery, the peace of the woods and the company of my friends on the trail. Inevitably, however, a few miles in there would be rough terrain or aching muscles. In the cold of the winter or the heat of the summer the weather could make the journey arduous. At some point my mind would shift into thoughts of just being done with the run or hike. Sometimes I would want to quit or turn back.

Having friends along helped keep me going. As a camp counselor, we learned to get the kids to sing songs as we hiked to both distract them and make the time pass more pleasantly. On the cross-country team, we would clump in groups so we could talk as we ran, pondering the state of the world, relationships or our plans for the future.  As an adult, I have learned that the journey is as important as my end goal, so I should try to enjoy being where I am as much as I can, even as I face a tough situation. In my recent grief this has been tricky, but I can usually pause and notice something beautiful in nature, savor a delicious scent or appreciate the kindness of one of my friends.

Recently, one of my college roommates reminded me how important it is to keep on going, even when the going is tough. The reward of the great view from the summit or the sunset over the sand dunes might just be a few more steps away.