I Hope These Words Find You
Some people have been dealt hands that others are unable to fathom. These games we play are oftentimes out of our control. Sure, in theory everyone has a chance to win but some are born into marathons latent with insurmountable hurdles. Broken families. Health issues. Childhood trauma. Still, they tie their running shoes and wait for the gunshot to ring. They show up no matter what because they have to. Does a silver spoon automatically eliminate the difficulties that life brings? No, but it can shield you from the harsh realities that many have no other choice but to face. Ignorance is bliss or something like that.
While experience is relative to circumstance, our empathy doesn’t necessarily have to be. There is a distinguishable freedom in having mercy for the downtrodden. You can read stories. You can watch documentaries. But when you listen to another human being stand up tall and share their story, it strikes a chord that other mediums are unable to reach. The power of a great orator with integrity impacts conscious and subconscious thought. The power of a great listener can take the pain away from another person. A great communicator moves things. They move rooms. They move hearts. They move minds. They move stadiums.
When it comes to the humanities, the education that comes from an honest conversation cannot always be translated into text. There are nuances that one must feel in order to interpret. Some storytellers are gifted though. Their ability to interpret feelings and translate them into text is special. Their antennas are tuned into a different frequency. While existential crisis looms around the corner of a technological dystopia, human beings need stories to withstand the pain of existence and learn the lessons of life. They don’t always need to be founded in literal reality, but the symbolism in the messaging must hold evident truths. There is a reason that Christ spoke in parables.
There are days when it feels as if the rain will never stop. It’s not torrential downpour. It’s light but it is constant. It falls with conviction from dusk until dawn. Everything isn’t glorious. Sometimes life flat out fucking sucks. Where do you turn in those moments? Do you listen to music? Do you read? Do you watch movies? Many of us seek out art that amplifies our moods. When we connect with the creativity of someone, it mystically spells out our situation. Something happens to us that is physiological. I’ve felt it time and time again - through emotional pain, crippling anxiety, family trauma, self-hatred, pure joy, falling in love, intense heartbreak, the insanity of addiction and alcoholism, the ups and downs of manic depression. When I listen to somebody, talk to somebody, read something, hear a specific song, watch a certain movie, I no longer feel hopelessly disconnected.
To be honest, there have been days when I no longer wished to carry on. I would’ve been okay with dying. That is no longer the case. Gratitude is the antidote for self-pity. I used to look at people that were grounded in genuine happiness and feel some type of way. If you feel threatened by somebody’s enthusiasm for life, you need to check yourself. I’m not talking about the manufactured happiness of adults at Disney World. That rubs my cynical side the wrong way (I’m working on it). I’m talking about the glow of somebody that has worked through some really dark shit. And if you cannot relate to what they’ve been through and what they’ve had to overcome, do your best to use your imagination. Show up for the people who need you. They’re only a phone call away.
