Though my divinity be waxing, my humanity is waning.
There is something I have become increasingly aware of in these past months. It is both a blessing, and a curse. My own powerlessness over the world around me. I speak of the ability to effect those I love and care about, and to alter things outside myself. Though I may have infinite faith and confidence in myself, and my control over my own actions and choices, how that translates into outer control is practically nonexistent. Yes, I may have influence amongst a select few, but trying to guide that influence in a positive manner is tantamount to a crapshoot.
As an example, my father died in July. I have since watched my mother’s world fall apart, and her increasing inability to relate well to the world around her. Her personal descent into the darker aspects of the human condition, and her dwelling alongside the chasms of loss and hopelessness. Though I’ve tried my best to offer what help I may, to act as a light in the darkness that is claiming her life, my efforts are approaching futility. More often than not, good intentions are misread and seen as an attack. Her defenses and coping leave little room for myself to navigate in any helpful way. To act would worsen the cosmic storm of shit. To do nothing allows it to continue unabated. I find myself outside a prison, looking in, and without the key.
Were it so easy that we might help one another, act as each others guiding stars in our all too often dark lives. That by our reaching out we could lift each other, help each other, heal each other. But that is not the universe we inhabit, sadly. We all create our realities, our prisons, and it is heartbreaking to know that more often than not, we are the only ones that hold the keys to our freedom. As long as we keep those keys clutched to our chests, or are unaware that we even have them, we remain outside the grace of the rest of the universe of which we are a part.
There is perhaps, a small consolation to be offered here. In the acceptance of our powerlessness and our lack of control, there can be peace, there can be contentment. There can be a focus on that which we do have control over, ourselves. In forgoing the emancipation of others from their prisons and hells, our own freedom becomes a much more real possibility. We have never been given the keys to the lives of others, to their hearts, their souls. Though for a time, they may loan us theirs, or open the doors for us, their keys have forever been in their keeping. Such it is with all of us, that the one we are most qualified to heal, to help, is ourselves.
I do not mean to imply that we should only look to ourselves, let the world be damned. We are all one, connected and intertwined with such complexity that sanity will be put aside to understand it. What hurts you, hurts me. What hurts me, hurts you. So it is with all things, from the rocks and the trees, to the birds and the bees. The whales and the snails as well, in fact. Our destiny is shared, whatever it may be, and we can’t escape from that. When you are a part of the universe, how do you run from that? How can you be free of yourself?
So help all you can, if you so would. Offer your hand and your heart to all who would accept. But know that you cannot save everyone, nor can you choose who or where. I think it is likely that in all our lives, we will lose someone close to us. We will lose them to themselves, lost amidst the swirling chaos of their reality. Perhaps it may be a brother, a friend, a sister, a parent, a child, or a spouse. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and never know that pain, or you’ll only know it in the most distant of acquaintances. Would that we all are so blessed. But when it does come, know when you’re in over your head, when your part in the tale can go on no longer.
The only guidance I can offer should such a heartrending thing occur, is to understand your own key. Free yourself from your bars and chains, and aim to become the best version of yourself you possibly can. Let the light of your own life shine as a beacon for those you love, and hope against hope that you may be of help. I wish I could tell you honestly that it would work, or that what will happen. The raw truth of it is that I do not know. I have learned far more of many approaches that will not work, many paths that will dead end. I only know that I was given one key, and there are still doors to be opened. As long as I can truly claim to care about myself, and about those who reside in my heart, I have to try. Perhaps in the grand intwining, what heals me will help to heal all. The ripples will go out from the only place they ever really could. Myself, here, now.
As an example, my father died in July. I have since watched my mother’s world fall apart, and her increasing inability to relate well to the world around her. Her personal descent into the darker aspects of the human condition, and her dwelling alongside the chasms of loss and hopelessness. Though I’ve tried my best to offer what help I may, to act as a light in the darkness that is claiming her life, my efforts are approaching futility. More often than not, good intentions are misread and seen as an attack. Her defenses and coping leave little room for myself to navigate in any helpful way. To act would worsen the cosmic storm of shit. To do nothing allows it to continue unabated. I find myself outside a prison, looking in, and without the key.
Were it so easy that we might help one another, act as each others guiding stars in our all too often dark lives. That by our reaching out we could lift each other, help each other, heal each other. But that is not the universe we inhabit, sadly. We all create our realities, our prisons, and it is heartbreaking to know that more often than not, we are the only ones that hold the keys to our freedom. As long as we keep those keys clutched to our chests, or are unaware that we even have them, we remain outside the grace of the rest of the universe of which we are a part.
There is perhaps, a small consolation to be offered here. In the acceptance of our powerlessness and our lack of control, there can be peace, there can be contentment. There can be a focus on that which we do have control over, ourselves. In forgoing the emancipation of others from their prisons and hells, our own freedom becomes a much more real possibility. We have never been given the keys to the lives of others, to their hearts, their souls. Though for a time, they may loan us theirs, or open the doors for us, their keys have forever been in their keeping. Such it is with all of us, that the one we are most qualified to heal, to help, is ourselves.
I do not mean to imply that we should only look to ourselves, let the world be damned. We are all one, connected and intertwined with such complexity that sanity will be put aside to understand it. What hurts you, hurts me. What hurts me, hurts you. So it is with all things, from the rocks and the trees, to the birds and the bees. The whales and the snails as well, in fact. Our destiny is shared, whatever it may be, and we can’t escape from that. When you are a part of the universe, how do you run from that? How can you be free of yourself?
So help all you can, if you so would. Offer your hand and your heart to all who would accept. But know that you cannot save everyone, nor can you choose who or where. I think it is likely that in all our lives, we will lose someone close to us. We will lose them to themselves, lost amidst the swirling chaos of their reality. Perhaps it may be a brother, a friend, a sister, a parent, a child, or a spouse. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and never know that pain, or you’ll only know it in the most distant of acquaintances. Would that we all are so blessed. But when it does come, know when you’re in over your head, when your part in the tale can go on no longer.
The only guidance I can offer should such a heartrending thing occur, is to understand your own key. Free yourself from your bars and chains, and aim to become the best version of yourself you possibly can. Let the light of your own life shine as a beacon for those you love, and hope against hope that you may be of help. I wish I could tell you honestly that it would work, or that what will happen. The raw truth of it is that I do not know. I have learned far more of many approaches that will not work, many paths that will dead end. I only know that I was given one key, and there are still doors to be opened. As long as I can truly claim to care about myself, and about those who reside in my heart, I have to try. Perhaps in the grand intwining, what heals me will help to heal all. The ripples will go out from the only place they ever really could. Myself, here, now.