how to support the suffering, without hurting oneself?

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How do I listen while a loved one sobs out her suffering, without taking on the pain myself? What’s the key? How do I keep perspective and equilibrium, but not become cold or indifferent?

Is this even a goal I should seek? Isn’t the world changed for the better by the passionate, not the dispassionate? If no-one takes on the pain of the abused and disenfranchised, how can things improve for them?

There are degrees of pain. “First world” versus “third world”, for example. But to the sufferer, it’s all pain.

First responders, therapists, charity workers, families of the maimed, these people (and many others) navigate the path of witnessing up close, even embracing, others’ pain without either “fingers in ears, lalalala can’t hear you” or going under themselves. I applaud them, and want to sit at their feet to learn how it’s done.

I don’t know the answers, but I’m getting practice anyway. I want to be happy. I choose to be happy. But I also want to be there for my unhappy friends, to be an ear, to be a rock, to help without hurting myself.

If you know what I’m talking about, tell me how you do it. Please.

yielding

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Her nickname was Lolli, and she was a juicy sweet woman who dressed inappropriately for this community college language class. She was maybe in her early 30s, and I learned one day that her third marriage was ending.

“Well,” I primly assumed, “I guess you won’t be going there again.”

She looked at me guilelessly, her freckled face open. “Why not?” she asked. “If there’s love, why not? Why would I close myself off to love?”

I don’t think that marrying everyone you love is a wise idea. But the thing I remember the most: she wasn’t mortally wounded. She wasn’t building walls against future intimacy and commitment. She still believed that love was a good thing, even if it only lasted a season or three.

She wasn’t scared.

Lolli, I haven’t thought about you for years, but tonight I raise a glass to you, and the example you give me. I won’t show as much cleavage or belly as you loved to, but in other ways, I’m lowering my defenses.

We are all flawed, and love is a good thing. Mazel tov, my friend.

keeping quiet

#alone #fmsphotoaday #fmsphotoaday_hashimaree

Keeping Quiet, by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about…

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

wondering

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I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have a conversation with J, and not think about them for hours afterwards. I guess they will always hold a good chunk of my heart.

walking

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It was an intense work day, but I still managed to walk five miles. It helped. Walking always helps.

replenishing

I watched the birds fly home

Half an hour spent alone with the sunset, watching the birds fly home one by one. My well is filled.

craving

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Beauty and solitude are two things my soul craves. Until it just wants company and rumpus.

snow day

Wrightwood, CA

Open your mouth only if what you have to say is more beautiful than silence.

– Arabic Proverb

what a year

January 1, 2012, was for sure the lowest day of my year. Because of a major life change, I closed my old blog and started this one. With a few notable exceptions, things have looked up ever since. Here’s the year in review.

Charlie @ 80

In mid January, I flew to Australia to celebrate my Dad’s 80th, along with every one of his children, grand children, and great grand children. Special? Yep.

View from my bed

When I got back, I moved into my Topanga treehouse. I have never loved a home more. I’d been saying for 15 years that I should live in Topanga; I don’t know what took me so long!

march 12

In March I cut my hair really short (as women do, after breakups). I also spent the entire month back in the conjugal home, caring for L, while her dad was working out of town. It was weird to go back so soon after leaving. A very odd month, it was. It culminated with an awesome adventure with L. in Lake Tahoe.

Alligator!

In April I went to New Orleans for the first time. I met a blog friend. I drank hurricanes. I held a (baby) alligator. I taught at a conference, and liked it.

Goofy Dave

May was friendship month. I joined Mensa, and met Annette. Louise came to visit. So did David. I joined a bunch of Meetups, and hiked a lot. And spent a night in the ER with L.

How to unwind

I spent a lot of time outdoors in June. I had a pre-melanoma cut out of my back. And I met a guy while giving blood, who asked me out. We had a few dates, and it was nice. Nothing came of it, but it made me realize that I might just be ready for a relationship.

Leaping off the Bridge to Nowhere

In July I finally visited the Bridge to Nowhere. I met a bunch of Topanga neighbours, and made three dresses. I smiled a lot.

Sunrise, Joshua Tree

In August I went to both San Antonio and Joshua Tree. Good times, good times.

boy and dog 1974

In September, I met a Malibu man. With a dog. I’m thinking he’s a keeper. And the dog? Well, she’s a keeper too.

full moon rise over Colorado River

In October I spent time in Ojai and Picacho. In between, Elizabeth came to visit. Happy times.

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November saw me at my sewing machine, crafting Christmas gifts galore, which I mostly failed to photograph. In between, I enjoyed a lot of Malibu sunsets, and shared many delicious meals. Really, does it get much better than that?

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December brought an unscheduled visit DownUnder to bury a kind-souled tragic-eyed brother. My heart aches for him. But the year ended on a sweet note, enjoying fine food and laughter with friends, and exploring the central coast with my guy and his dog (blog post on this subject to follow.)

Without a doubt, I’m ending the year in a much happier place than I started it. My one little word for 2012 was healthy, and by every indication (weight, strength, emotions — ok maybe not financial) I’m healthier now.

Here’s to a great 2013.

hint of more to come

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It’s late. I am only part way through editing photos of my central coast getaway. This one will have to do, for now.

::: happy sigh :::

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