The part that goes alone
Friday, January 17, 2014
This post stems from my recent conversations with a few people I know and care about who are having a very hard time of things these days.
Each of us have our own mountains to climb, our own monsters under the bed. Mostly, it’s a different battle for all of us. But there’s a common thread. I notice it while I’m trying to give advice to one person, while trying like hell just to get in touch with another, and while trying to stay as quiet as I can while the heart of a third breaks a little more every day:
However close we are to someone, there’s always a part of them we can’t help.
That part always, always goes alone into whatever minor annoyance, mundane problem or massive tragedy we face. It’s the part no one can follow, carry or comfort. Those outside your mind can’t know that part of you, and you can’t know it in them. But we all have it.
And we have to treat it differently from the other parts, the bits of someone we can reach, the bits that need encouragement or a listener or someone sitting next to them in mutually acceptable and comfortable silence.
The part that goes alone can only be recognized and respected, and that’s really, really difficult to accept when all you want to do is help someone.
Happiness and sadness are equal parts chemicals and circumstances, but understanding someone and making them feel understood, even when that means accepting you can’t completely relieve them of their burdens, is an art worth pursuing.