We Make Do

For a while now, times have been tough for many.

Here’s the thing with having a blog (or with being a parent). Sometimes I have the right words to say.

Other times, words elude me.

For the blog, in place of profound, helpful stuff, sometimes I have:

Hey-I’ve-been-24/7-doing-rote-and-unglamorous-workaday-writer-things-and-my-brain-is-now-a-lump-of-nonbrainyness stuff

Or I have:

Life-is-pretty-goddamn-excruciating-and-I-do-not-wish-to-lay-my-personal-pain-on-other-humans stuff

Or I have:

There-is-a-great-deal-of-pain-in-the-world-right-now-and-I-wish-I-could-solve-it-with-a-blog-post-but-I-know-I-cannot-so-instead-I’m-going-to-go-donate-money-and/or-time-to-groups-that-hopefully-can-affect-change-for-the-better stuff

Or I have all three at once.

As a parent, when I have no words, at least I have hugs to give.

As I sit to write this post that will be read in a virtual world, I struggle with the question: besides a virtual hug, what can I give you of value? What can I give of real value to those dealing with dark times?

I’m not sure.

I do not know the answer to the question, “What can I give you of value today that will help in these dark times”, so I am winging this post and saying I know life can be hard. I know the world can be a hard, hurtful, often scary place. I know. I wish I could take away the pain. I wish I could take away the darkness. I wish I could erase past hurts. I wish I could make love conquer hate. I wish I had the power to make humans stop hurting other humans. But I do not.

At this moment, although I wish I had more for you, I do have this: I wrote a poem.

 

Drawingback4

 

We Make Do

Life began in a warm bassinet. Or a cold crack house

We arrive, sometimes invited, sometimes cherished, sometimes loathed, sometimes as unwelcome guests to be evicted at the soonest possible convenience, sometimes in a fate far worse

We arrive helpless

We arrive hopeful

We arrive along a vast, unequal spectrum from tortured poverty of soul and body to unbounded privilege and opulence

And we have no choice in the decision

We make do with what we’re given

And we make the best of what we’re given

And from day one we are given messages:

You are my precious one

Or – You were never wanted

Or – You are special

Or – you are “less than”

And we have no choice in the messages we are given

We make do

We make the best of what we’re given

We face trials and tribulations

And are equipped differently to face these trials and tribulations

Some receive the finest quality armor

Some are stripped of everything and tossed naked into the raging battlefield

We make do

We make the best of what we’re given

And it is not fair

And it is not right

It is unjust

It is…life

We make do

We make the best of what we’re given

And then in the midst of life, in your armor, dented or pristine, or in your cold, oh-so-vulnerable nakedness,  you find yourself sitting frozen in the quiet, still moments

Looking in

Looking out

And you can despair and wither and implode into darkness

Or, in your small strength, you can reach out

And seek love

And seek hope

In your small strength, you can proclaim love

And you can proclaim hope

And, despite all odds, you can, with great hope, expect love

We make do

We make the best of what we’re given

And, as it turns out, when you give love, you attract love

Love always answers love

Love finds its way, its healing way

Into the cracks and wounds

And, like Kintsugi, makes its vessel stronger and more beautiful

The vessel, once shattered, now reformed

The vessel, open and accepting, ready to fill itself with hope and love and laughter

And this. This is really the true strength of the once broken vessel:

It can be a well of hope

We make do

We make the best of what we’re given

Let’s try hope

 

 

Much love to you,

 

me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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