I am here.

I am just planting a little stick in the sand here to mark that I have come this way, that I am present on the earth, that I am alive and breathing, that my heart beats, that my fingers touched these keys. I am leaving a little rock for myself -o- to show that I visited this little corner of the vast world.

I have suffered, am suffering, a loss. I can’t say more than that, because to say it would make it more real, and I am having all the real I can stand right now. I worry people will judge me as being coy or cryptic (to my inner judge that reflects those thoughts, I say, hey, not helpful! privacy is a legitimate need, and in the world I want to create and live in, space for pain isn’t contingent on an informational transaction– there is room for all of it).

I am trying to tether myself to this world, and right now, writing this post seems like one way to do it, one little piece of connection I can create to the world and the people around me, one small act of reaching out. I want people to reach back, and I believe that me reaching first is how that starts. Probably me reaching repeatedly is how it keeps going. Showing up and asking people to reach back toward me (in case you’re wondering, I’m asking).

This morning I was reminded (not that I forgot) that other people are experiencing loss and pain, too. I am writing this post because I want to take a page from their books and write about this stuff, instead of hiding. I want it to be okay to be in the world even when I hurt, even when I need. Sometimes I feel like I am this fragile box that might break if anyone knew that I have problems, make mistakes, feel pain, feel sadness, am scared about the future.

But who doesn’t, and who do I think I’m fooling? Hiding my pain and mistakes and problems hasn’t helped me heal or avoid or solve them. What if I try this new way? What if I tell you that I’m a flawed human with a life that has both good and hard stuff in it, like so many people? What if there’s no such thing as a flaw, if we are all just different versions of perfect? What if having good doesn’t negate the hard and vice versa, it’s all just there together? What if you know I am scared, and you don’t run away from that, away from me, but you sit here with me for just a moment, and you let me know I’m okay and that I’ll get through this hard time? That would be so good for me right now. To make a space for myself to be everything I am, even when it’s not all pretty and happy and easy. That’s what I’m trying to do by writing today.

I am here. I exist. If you want to leave me a little rock -o- to mark your presence here, too, I welcome it. I’m reaching for you.