I did - at 14 years old.
The commerical ran all the time. "Give to the Christian Children's Fund. It only costs .60 cents a day to sponser a child- less than the cost of a cup of coffee." A train rambled across tracks bringing with it the 800 number to call. Pictures of gorgeous but pitiful looking children flashed on the screen, one after the other. Sixty sents a day? I have that and I don't even drink coffee.
My parents said no, I couldn't save the world - not yet.
My euphoria became devestation in an instant. I cried for days - sure a child would die because of me.
I seem to have two writing moods lately.
Introspective and Serene... you know - like the way your body feels calm and flowing after a good meditation or yoga class. The way your heart feels settled with an epiphany that sidled up and startled you with its clarity. The, I-have-made-some-kind-of-peace-with-the-cards-I've-been-dealt and the words just flow onto the page, kind of mood.
Sarcastic and Angry ...you know - the return of questions that I know can't be answered and the overwhelming injustice that babies die in the first place - kind of anger mixed with a sarcastic tone representive in phantom posts that only exist in my mind.
I truly thought I was done with the anger. It has blind-sighted me. I think it might be because I read about my friends losing baby after baby. I read about triplets that die, not all together, but one at a time - days apart - so their poor parents have to live the torture in triplet too. I see a picture of a sweet girl that swallowed a tiny button-battery by accident and lays in the ICU. I hear of countless IUI's and IVF's - and more specifically suffer with you during a two week wait - only to feel your devestation ooze through the screen as a teenager down the road cries into a tissue at her guidance counselor's desk.
See? These are the bitter, angry, frustrated thoughts and emotions that flow through me, well - some of the time anyway. The issue is that when the pendulum swings it rockets back to the "all -is-right -with-the-world, guardian angels and blessings and kum-buy-ah-ness" mindset.
It is exhausting. I feel like an over-used tennis ball in a VERY long match.
But, here's the thing. Even the not so lovely emotions feel right. This road I'm on, even when I trip headfirst into a human sized pothole, is definately the road I'm meant to be on. I seem to be living my emotions vicariously through all of you -and sometimes that is ok - a reminder of what the world is facing and varied perspectives attached to the experiences.
But, I have to be careful not to lose myself. Yes - I'm a creature in constant emotional evolution. I don't want to lose that. In the past, this hasn't mattered so much to me. I was. I grew and changed. Then, I was again - but different. That was all about ME. My world has shifted on its axle and it is very much about YOU now (the collective you that is). I guess I'm a human cocktail - but I haven't determined my perfect mixing ratio. 4 parts me and 2 parts you? 3 parts the world and 3 parts instinct? Ah - hell, just pour me over some rocks and drink me straight.
Starting next month, I will be surrounded by a group of grieving women, each with their own story to share, each on their own intimate and personalized journey, and my job will be to support THEM - to take on their pain, let it wash through me and leave it on the conference room floor. I'm not sure I can. I've never been one to leave the world's troubles behind...they just follow me home and sit in the corner waiting for me to attend to them - or, at the very least, insert them into one of my real life issues creating a melodramatic effect.
So - here is my intention. To listen, to lead, and to cry with these women. To support, to guide towards appropriate resources, to hug and smile. And then, to come home and peek in on two sleeping girls who fill my life with reasons not to hold onto other people's anger, sadness, and heartbreaking indignation.
I'll let you know how that goes. I have always wanted to save the world after all.
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