“When I was younger

so much younger than today, I never needed anybody’s help in any way.” -Beetles. the rest of the lyrics can be found here.

That was in my head, when I woke up today. Not really accurate, for me, because I needed a lot of help when I was younger. There were so many years where I didn’t realize that other people had their own struggles. I was a lengthy monologue.

Now, it feels like I’m on the other side of unbalance. Words rush into my ears and I want to slow the flood. The skill of listening has been hard earned, and now I’m capable of staying present for sad, angry, even traumatic stories. Despite the sheer amount of time, money, effort, written and oral testing; I find myself wondering how to help people heal. And I want to tell people not to wait…please don’t wait…don’t wait until you feel better to be with the people and do the things that matter to you. Take a shower and cry, and take your puffy face out for walk. Kick shame out of your way and go to the places you don’t feel like going. Make choices based on meaning. Does it mean something to you? Then, do it. And know that it will hurt on a number of levels.

One of the most vexing puzzles is why so much functioning at times and then abrupt halts. **Rant**For the past six months, our family has been driving three hours once a week. I got a new job. We looked at more houses than I can even recall, and picked one, and moved most of our stuff here. And it flooded here, right before we even bought our home. Our new home was higher than the flood water, but the parking lot of the part I planned to bring my kids to…looks like a sink hole. I get up and I can see that there are many good things in my life, but I am still sad that my step-dad has Cancer. I’m still sad and I’m not alone. I’m still sad that my friend’s brother died. I’m still sad that sexual abuse is all around us and people don’t even see it. I’m still sad when girls under 10 tell me they think they are fat. I’m still sad about the history of people with developmental disabilities, knowing that if I had lived in another time…I wouldn’t have even met my sister. She would have gone off to live at a place…a segregated place. There are realities happening now, that we will one day look back on and be very sad.**End Rant?**

Life is this deer that jumps out in front of me while I try to navigate.

So, I drink my coffee and I write things down and at 9:30am I’ll walk with my kids to Storytime at the library. I won’t feel like getting dressed or walking or talking to anyone. But when I get moving, I invariably feel better. I’ll see my kids having fun with other kids, and we’ll pass the trees changing color. I’ll still feel sad, but I’ll feel joy and love at the same time. And that’s what makes life beautiful. It isn’t waiting. Beauty is moving without perfection, without freedom from pain. Beauty is embracing sorrow while living with the people we love.

Sincerely,

Terra Rose