Tuesday, Oct. 16, 2012

Talking with a friend yesterday, my heart ached as I listened to them share how they believed that, once again; the world was taking a giant stab at them.  That they felt unworthy.  That they wondered why the heck they bothered reaching out to others when all they got in return were unpleasant results.  That got me to wondering.  Why are there times when it appears that the world is taking a bigger stab at us than normal?

I don’t believe the world actively is out to get us more one time than another…or at all for that matter.  But I could empathize with my friend’s feelings.  I know, all too well, that feeling of being overwhelmed.  Feeling vacant.  Feeling the uselessness of getting up and dusting the dirt off myself only to have those around me knock me back down. 

But unlike my friend, I don’t subscribe to a doomsday attitude of the world is out to get me…along with everyone in it.  Does this mean I’m not as affected as my friend when bad things come my way?  I don’t believe so.  Just that I try to put a more positive spin on them.  Look for the silver lining—no matter how obscure it may seem.

Have I had my moments when I feel an avalanche of garbage has been dumped one me?  Sure!  Do I struggle to claw my way out?  Absolutely?  Do I succeed right away?  Sometimes…other times I, like my friend, get overwhelmed and wallow a bit.

One thing I know for sure.  If I flounder in the trenches too long, their sides cave in on me, making it all the more difficult to pull myself out.  My friend knows this as well, and I have every bit of confidence that they feel much better today, having had an outlet yesterday.  That outlet was me.  Someone in whom they could confide.  Trust.  

Heavens knows, this particular friend and I have reinforced one another’s foundations more times than I can recall.  Each time, we come to the other feeling the weight of the world dragging us down.  After revealing our anguish, we walk away feeling strengthened.  As if the balance of the weight of the world gets pushed askew, no longer sitting so heavily upon our shoulders. 

With it being askew, we’re then able to shift our shoulders and knock it off.  May not be entirely.  Or all at once.  But within a short span we’re back to feeling like ourselves, aware that, in reality, it’s not that the world was taking a bigger stab at us than normal, just that we were in a more vulnerable position when everything hit the fan.  Capturing that knowledge allows us to regain control and steady ourselves, reclaiming our balance in the process.