Everyone Is Hurt

The older I get, the more I notice. Whether you have had a more opportune upbringing, or one where people were not nice to you… everyone is hurt. Our uniqueness so singular, there is no way to know how even the tiniest interaction or experience will mold us. Intention or not - we carry our hours with us: observances, adventures, wins, misfortune, chaos. Did someone you love, die? Were you deeply wronged? Was family rich with money, but poor in spirit? Or scarce in necessity, yet full with nurture? So, you can tell… the wounds in the eyes of those who cheat, or have been cheated. The sadness of a lost child, in an adult body. The fragile, who wear armor of toughness. The cheerful, who know grief. Everyone is hurt.

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It smells like fire outside. The air is cooling and the light has changed. Leaves shine particularly on trees, and you can almost waft the crisp breezes of autumn. Chatter from late summer barbecues spill from backyards, and the energetic busyness of school beginning is felt when the sun sets, and the eagerness to keep the season alive, lingers. I love shifts - new offerings of peace and observance and growth that comes from a period we think will feel the same based on temperature and tradition, but are always different.

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Of course I have goals like other people do… career, financial, experiential, setting up my kids - giving them advantages that I never got. My sturdiest desire though, over all else, is to be completely unshakable. Not rattled by any thought, person, spirit, or reroute. Fearless of my children… let me explain that one: I saw a video on the internet that explained why kids’ outbursts are so triggering to us, and that it is because we are scared of their reactions. The woman on the screen was right. I feel it all the time, and it does not feel good - fear. It’s true - we expect growing minds and bodies to behave properly and orderly, while even we are still learning ourselves. Patience. Patience is the ultimate superpower.

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We think of talent in terms of what is shown or demonstrated based on what someone is capable of. Usually, we look at what they have materially, what they can do physically at the time, artistically, to estimate this level of worth. We watch for magazine covers to read the grand achievements of a young person. It always appears as a race.

Today on my incline walk with my decade old hip replacement, I saw a much-older-than-me woman on her walk, too. We had just passed her on the way to school nearly two miles up the main hill. Now, she had weaved her way through town, to the bottom of the hill I was climbing. A red lettered shirt clung to her petite hunched back body. I couldn’t make out the words but it appeared to be one of those shirts you get after completing a 5K or maybe it was from one of her grandchildren’s homecoming football games. Regardless, the shirt screamed one thing: activity. It said to me as I observed the woman: “I am present in life and mobile in my downtime.” Or “I prioritize good rest but refuse to rot in front of a noisy black screen.” Or, “I say no to destructive behaviors, and take care of what has been granted.”