"We all stand up eventually. And if we're lucky we'll have our own troopers on shore. And if we're even luckier - we'll be a shore trooper for someone else one day."
It is really, really hard to be awake in this life.
I am so grateful for how often I have been humbled recently.
I am humbled that I am someone who is awake in this life.
And that this thing - this thing that I thought was just a source of severe agony - is actually a gift.
It was naive for me to assume that everyone is an awake being.
That idea actually ended up hurting me - a lot.
The truth is, we arent all awake.
We arent all the same.
We arent all on the same spot in our journey's.
Which also humbles me.
And fills me up with gratitude for the handful of people I have in my life that are walking alongside me, and I them - together.
Because that's rare.
I now know, from my own experience, that it is one of the hardest things to do, to watch someone be, or revert back to sleeping.
Slowly sliding back to the dark.
You watch them close their eyes, and tightly tye a blind fold on their face and you think: "Noooo!, Fuck. You're gone now. And there is nothing that I can do. All I can do is believe in you coming back. But you have to believe in yourself to do it, all on your own."
This was the big humbling, gut-wrenching spot for me. I'm talking like: 'I -wanted-to-crawl-out-of-my-skin-while-I-was-hugging-myself'', type of humbling gut-wrench.
Realizing we truly and utterly, without fail, cannot control other people.
All we can ever control is ourselves.
The humble train continued to roll through Self-Ville here.
Because I reflected on the times that I too, was sleeping.
The time that I too, retracted back into the dark.
I remembered the people that I lost along the way because of that.
Because some of them whole heartedly decided: "No. I cannot do this with you. This is too hard to bare. And you will drag me down with you."
And respectfully, off they went.
But then there were the ones that chose otherwise.
And reflecting on those people now, and what made them choosing otherwise so beautiful - I feel, is the definition of gratitude.
These ones - the troopers - were able to stay because they were able to stay in their own seats. And they had the strength, experience and skills to do that.
Truth be told, I can and will first hand vouche and take responsibilty for:
being someone who has personally slipped down my own holes, and inadvertantly caused collosal damage to all of those around me, on my own down.
It inevitably happens. And it happens because, just like someone who is drowning, we grasp for anything to save us.
And if its not a rock, that is firmly planted in the ground - we'll take it down with us, as we go. It's a sad, and devestating truth.
But the troopers, they were able to stand on shore and wait for me to gasp for enough air to stay on the surface momentarily.
Using my will, and the will of something bigger than me to do it.
And that was the moment they would wait for me to ask for help.
Where they would say: "Just open your eyes. And stand up."
And eventually I would.
Because the depth of the water depends on how long our eyes are closed.
Because: when our eyes are closed, puddles can feel like oceans.
So yeah, being awake definitely has been a curse and a blessing in the same hand.
But I genuinely wouldn't change it.
And today, I feel grateful and humbled that I wouldn't try to change whether someone is blindfolded or wide eyed either.
We all stand up eventually.
And if we're lucky, we'll have our own troopers on shore.
And if we're even luckier - we'll be a shore trooper for someone else one day.
Comments