I’m distraught about things that is happening to other people. Tragic things. Things that make me lie awake at night. Mainly because I am unable to change the inevitable. It is not an unwillingness to help, it’s an inability. There is quite simply, nothing I can do.
Their road has been paved with sadness and the lines have been drawn with a lot of tears. Tears of the past that left deep crevices on the cheeks of those who cried them. Tears of the present that constantly seeps from blurry, puffy, red eyes. Tears of the future that burn in aching hearts and has not yet leaked from the scattered remains.
The future is waiting and it seems cruel and shiveringly cold. Frost has covered the surface and icy winds are blowing ahead. My tantrum about the injustice of the world will not change one. Damn. Thing. And therefore I’m pissed. And sad. And grateful. All at the same time.
Sometimes life is really unfair and we only appreciate our own blessings when the shit hits another person’s fan with such severity that some of the brown stuff ends up on our faces too. We might be fortunate and simply wipe it off, but sometimes we cannot stand unmoved or unchanged by the stench it leaves behind.
In those times we need to show support.
We need to show understanding. And empathy. And strength. And most importantly; we should take prejudice and judgment and shove it where the sun don’t shine.
We should be grateful. And out of this gratitude we should reach out.
Be the ears that will listen. Be the shoulder they will cry on. Be the one who carries them when they become weak with fatigue. Be the one who keeps their arms strong amidst the battle raging around them. Be their shield and protect them, surround them with love when they don’t feel any. Be their lighthouse in those darkest moments when they will lose all hope.
My frustration resides in the fact that I cannot change the situation. My salvation lies in the fact that I can reach out, which implies there IS something I can do, after all.