There Is Laughter #184

It is simple enough to treasure the moments where we can laugh because we or they can be just that fabulous but it has never ever been easy to value the moments that hold our pain even though both are the how we live and the what that makes us who we are as individuals. In fact and opinion, our appreciation of the moments that feel good is so great that it encourages us to do things so that we appear to be all right even when we are not. Or perhaps it’s the fear as well as the real truth of being judged by others that has us hiding and denying anything that could possibly be seen as weakness especially when the expectation is for us to be acceptable. However by stepping in that direction, we lose ourselves in ways that trouble our hearts far more than any of the “f” moments and falls that we will always carry with us. How much more traumatic is it then to not only feel our pain that lives on the inside but to also be in the position of having to deny it’s existence? In other words, our weight of the world is a far more complicated place that can’t just be “gotten over” because, after all, it has a way of showing up when we least expect it or want it. Last week I spent some time with a young man who has a smile that is as bright as a star on a dark night and a laugh that is so infectious that you can’t help but giggle right along with him. He will tell you that he is all right in this so very heavell life but if you lean in to hear and view beyond what is just in front, you can catch a glimpse of his pain when it illuminates in his eyes even as he laughs so hard that his stomach hurts. He is an addict in denial of his coping through substance use as well as standing guard in front of the door that hides his mess. He and I are distinctly different and yet we also share some similarities in what we allow others to see about ourselves and our grief; that view of our green truth on the outside versus the real truth that lives within. What about his story, if anything, feels familiar, comfortable or even uncomfortable for you? Are you able to talk straight to not only yourself but to others as well? You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect but it does have to be the all of you because a whole needs all of it’s parts to make a series of movements towards change even if that motion includes falling and being scared. There is laughter that comes from the moments that we love and then there is laughter that hides what hurts and both can hold tears that need tissues. There is anger that suggests it’s strength and then there is fear that implies the absence of courage and yet anger can also be weakness while fear is able to be the step before strength is found. There is grief that comes from loss and then there is grief from “f” moments and traumas that also contain losing because grief is about all sorts of things and not just people. There is beauty that is easy to see and agree upon and then there is beauty that can only be defined by each individual and can’t be seen by everyone. This is you and this is me whether an addict or not. In every moment, feeling, word or just about anything that you can think of there is a different truth that can be found to help you to understand, also known as to appreciate, the person that you are going through with especially when being kind to yourself is so hard to do. Those tough lessons have never been meant to destroy you or to be repeated nor are they an indication that you are weak and impossible even if the appearance of the fact and the opinion feels just like that. It’s good to be home in the place that needs you most because it’s not the absence of messes or the impression of not having any that makes you all right but rather it’s the believing in and using your whole story that does. Have the best day possible for you because for me it’s the kind of day where I am going to need a lot of tissues as I continue to learn that my weeds are just as valuable as my flowers even though I also prefer the moments that are just so fabulous that I can laugh until my stomach hurts. Love Always, Heavell