Witt's End

What’s our first reaction when someone we love is hurting? Do we support them through the trial/pain or try to take it away? I’m the latter. And it isn’t always what’s needed.   The first reaction I have is solving the problem, giving someone a solution. I’m not the greatest at letting someone vent, I’m not the best at giving space. I smother. I know I do. Because I care.  I know how to listen. I know how to care. I know how to be there. But I often get selfishly wrapped up in myself, and try to be the saving grace. I try to solve it. And that’s probably my ego talking.  Lately personal experience has forced a new perspective.  We get sick. We have bad things happen. And nothing can change it.  Knowing that, sometimes we just need to talk our way through; or sit in silence.  I've needed that more and more since I've gotten sick.  But it's a new realization that sits against what I learned and did most of my life before this point.  Now sometimes I...

Mania makes you nostalgic for what has never been.     The confidence of the familiar with the wonder of something new. It’s like when a toddler decides to talk in full sentences. Surprising, fast, careless, stumbling. But totally sure.  It’s often calm on the surface. Other than the speech. The only tell to what’s rippling, roiling, boiling underneath.  That’s why with a surety you talk at 100 mph, you feel you’re the smartest person in the room.  Your mind always awake. Like caffeine. Coursing constantly for days.  What’s sleep but an inconvenience to keep your body from collapsing. As you get less and less you feel dissociated but never sluggish. Life’s on autopilot. Nothing can bring you down. So pieces of your day start missing. But it doesn’t matter when you feel like this.  You gloss over the growing agitation. The itching, the crawling in your mind.  You take it all the stimulus at first. All of it. Wondrous, bright, colorful, loud. And yo...

She was never quite serene. She was too opinionated, too determined, too focused for that. Lovely, always. Strong. But not serene. Given all that, she moved with a dancer's grace. In my memories that was always apparent because she was always in motion. Whether walking, cooking, typing with flying fingers on a keyboard, writing with the precision of a calligrapher, or eyes scanning a page. It was energetic, incessant, and graceful. That grace came from purpose, and it's something I've often tried and failed to emulate. In person she was quick with a smile. Engaging, easily shifting into conversation. Quick with an anecdote, a fact, knowledge, or a witticism. Small talk was never flippant, or surface for long. That purpose, that grace was there once again.  I was always at her feet as a child. Summers, breaks, so much time was spent at their farm. And I couldn't always be outside so I became her shadow. The island counter of their kitchen was my post. Or the kitchen itse...

 Twice in my life, at times I've heard this.  "You've carried this burden long enough. All I asked, all I required was seven miles more. You've more than exceeded what I've asked. You've shouldered this load more than you needed to. Let it down.  Your nature demands you carry your share, and you take it to carrying any who fall. Your nature demands you help others.  At this point, you've given enough of your time, strength, help. Let the burden down. Rest awhile. There will be time to carry the burden over again." I don't know who else needs to hear this. But I know it's been a couple years of significant burdens. A couple years of hard health. And a time of heartbreak. Sometimes to keep going we have to rest. We have to let a burden down. We have to heal ourselves.  For a time. 

  Winter’s coming but fall isn’t over yet. We have to remember that. The nights run shorter and shorter. The days get colder. Frost and cloudy skies are soon to be omnipresent. With the change imminent my mind pushes into overdrive. I’m writing nonstop. Leaning into the skid. Pens only leave paper so I can type on a keyboard. I don’t know why I have this push now. But I’m going to use the motivation to dig deeper and find out.

 David fell. Solomon fell. Judas betrayed the Christ with a kiss. Peter denied the Christ three times before the Cock crowed. Gideon rose up against insurmountable odds. Jonathan stayed faithful. Stephen stayed true a martyr. Paul redeemed himself from his time and actions as Saul. Which side of the coin am I on? Where does my character lie? At this time I'm struggling to know for sure. Am I one who showed great promise and falls when tested? Or am I steady? I don't know and that often scares me.