You know, I can see why people contemplate suicide.
I even can see why they just flee, take off, create a new life.
I can understand why some decide to live outside of suicide, as hermits, or homeless and on the streets, coping day by day.
You look at the horizon and there's no change out there.
The sense that you have little control and input into your life mounts.
Presssures are unabated or drop for a brief respite before re-surging with renewed vigor.
Tension and anxiety sing in you like powerful winds singing through high wires.
You're told, hang on.
You tell yourself, hang on.
You seek balance and strength.
But as you look at the horizon, you see it flat and unyielding.
There is no change out there.
These are my thoughts after a wearying night on top of a wearying day, part of a wearying week. It's Wednesday.
My matters are relatively small. Sick wife, now with a new cough. Sick cat, and cats clamoring for attention. Power outages, computer issues, connectivity issues, work issues.
Stress isn't about the magnitude of problems but the lack of control.
I feel that. Work is rolled into life and day becomes night and night becomes work and day becomes night....
There is no relief.
I plan little escapes. A walk. Coffee. A place for solitude.
A place to write.
I steal time between requests.
I post to vent to escape.
I write to vent to escape.
I dream to vent to escape.
I contemplate my issues and I think of poorer people enduring begging for food, coping with disease, homelessness, war, water shortages, starvation, death. I think of a young mother coping with crying sick children. Unemployed parents knowing the holiday is arriving, and knowing they have little money and resources. Nurses and doctors tending the sick. Volunteers helping the elderly and diseased. People freezing in homes without power, rationing medicine, rationing energy.
What do you do?
You seize on the smallest measure of change to give you a boost of hope.
You take a deep breath, and then another.
You decide on a direction, on an effort, on a course.
You took a step.
And then another.
And when there is finally a small respite, you seize on it and feed on it. You take all that you can from it.
Leave nothing on that carcass. We're talking survival here.
We're talking progress.
You reach out for a dream.
You create a new one.
Just let me get through the day.
No, let me get through the hours.
Just let me get through this moment.
It's a small dream but all dreams can carry us.
They're the hope of change on the horizon.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com