Some Things on Being Human

Sometimes it is tiny and black.

A speck in a field of dandelions

Barely visible and yet somehow marring the landscape.

Other times it is huge and light

Airy

Otherworldly 

A helium balloon, tugging and pulling against its restrains

Longing to be set free and fly.

Sometimes it’s my daughters’ hair

Brushing through the tangles and arranging the long, smooth strands into pigtails and braids. 

Thinking to myself, I always wanted hair like this. 

It’s the freckles around my husband’s eyes and how they scrunch up when he smiles.

It is everything, everywhere, all at once. 

It is nothing, silence and stillness. 

It’s knowing it won’t last forever 

And knowing that it will

That things will never, ever be the same 

Except for the things that are always the same

Like the dishes in the sink

Or the mortgage to be paid

Or watching what I eat 

And then eating all the ice cream. 

Last night it was celebrating our dog's birthday.

Each of us taking a turn to tell her why we love her so much. 

While she eats the steak we prepared for her.

While our first dog sleeps in her spot in front of the fire

Awaiting her final rest. 

Sometimes it is a single rose

Presented gallantly

With flourish 

And a kiss.

Other times it's, I’ve got the girls tonight, why don’t you go to bed early. 

Get some rest.

I love you. 

This thing called being a human.

Lately, I find myself looking for meaning

looking for beauty, 

looking for peace, 

looking for those moments that make everything, maybe not worth it per se, but bearable? 

Like being on a treasure hunt on a vast, deserted island

No map

No compass

No guide

Just obstacle after obstacle after obstacle and then suddenly, 

GOLD! 

And we relish in the gold and we celebrate the gold and revive ourselves because we know the gold will soon be spent and we will be off again, searching, longing for more beauty and ease. 

This may seem pessimistic to you, perhaps.

For me, I’ve never been one of those 

“Life is beautiful,” types.

Even when I was a kid.

It was like I could see through the charade, 

the facade, 

the matrix.

When everyone else around me was easily tricked into believing the delusion.

I alone

Did not.

And I did feel alone with it. 

The sugar coating.

The “Everything will be ok…”

The “Life is a gift…”

Not to me it wasn’t.

But how confusing for a kid?

To be told one thing but know in your

Gut

Heart

Throat 

That the one thing is simply not true.

Life is hard.

Pain is inevitable.

Loss. 

Loneliness.

Illness.

I was always so acutely aware.

The homeless person on the block

The kids who did not have enough food

The war

The genocide

The extinct animals.

These things did not add up to their worldview. 

And I felt so very alone in mine.

Longing to be in the “in” crowd.

The one that life seems to be so easy for. 

I find myself being pulled to write and speak on behalf of those of us who have been labeled Pessimistic.

Depressed. 

Not invited to the party… 

Because I am so very sure there are more of us out there.

And we need company. 

Because sometimes it is just a tiny speck.

But other times, it takes over the whole universe.

And the loneliness is palpable.

Especially when we lose other outsiders.

Or insiders who accepted us.

Where are my people?

Where are the ones who want to dive deep, and I mean really deep. 

Not the ones who say they are ready but then forget their snorkel gear,

Or the ones who say they want depth too but actually have no idea how to swim.

The ones who know that the real treasure is buried down there,

Gold miners

Prospectors

Manifest destiny 

It is not for the faint of heart

Or the week willed.

This shit is hard.

If you know, you know

And please know that I see you

And your effort

And your stamina 

And your strength. 

Exploring the depths of what it means to be human

And sharing your gifts with the world.