I feel pain and many times not even my own. As a younger man I was working as a Forecaster at McGuire AFB in New Jersey. One evening the weather observer blew past me and basically seemed to ignore me. About an hour later she asked me how I knew something is wrong. Her husband was high on crack and tried to shoot her with a shotgun.
I cannot remember how many times especially with females that I sensed this desperation. A kind of pervasive fear that riddles with the soul with uncertainty and knowing that people do not understand. Those who think they know depression and anxiety or to get over those things.
They assume much and without any comprehension of who I am and what I do for others. The best medicine is compassion. A feeling heart that is vulnerable but equipped. It comes as no surprise at the misogyny directed at women and those perceived to be weak. Most men could not bear pregnancy and yet they carp at women as the weaker sex. We are both the weaker and stronger and we know what the rules are for that.
We struggle to find things we can color as black and white and a way of a common ground that makes us better, whole and deluded. Unfortunately there are the parasites who willfully and aggressively open up scars and believe they are doing good.
To those, we just walk away, confidently but with humility because this is an anathema to haters. Knowing we know where they are coming from. Two still equal two, yet the contrary spirit inherent in all of us, wishes to play the devil’s advocate.
The tears of a friend spent towards a person especially a man who is trusted is almost sacred. A girl and a friend I knew in Germany was near suicidal following a rape and resultant pregnancy. She was lost and afraid but I just listened and told her that it is her decision, whether to keep or abort. She said I was the only one who treated with real respect. Not strong opinions and judgments and love that is platonic and still sexually charged. Without the sex. Trust.
She decided to not abort and the baby was given to a mixed couple who the Army decided could not have kids by other channels. Here were people who touched my heart in different ways and all where touched by some kind of angel. I need to find her again as this was long ago.
The point is that we should listen. Drink in the moment and appreciate the flavors of experience which if decided to be shared are a nectar so sweet, that is permeates our brains with compassion and heart.
Give me this. Take to a place where prying eyes dim. ‘
Give me the honesty to know the time on the clock.
Take me to the door that blesses our entrance,
to the sublime nature of harmony and the steady beat of time.
Give me the mind and the heart to hear.
To move past the shadows
and into the purple throes that fill me with wonder.
Floyd, Times Are Changin 