Distraught, half unaware of where I am, I wake-up in a sweat with you on my mind. “Was I helpful,” is the question that stirs me. I never thought that being helpful could be a burden until I woke up at night with your face staring at me in a dream, wondering, “did I do enough,” “am I enough,” “what’s enough.”
Everyone of us deserves a helping hand, it took me a while to believe that, but now I know it. Many of us who “deserve” it all over the world will never get it. Others, many, will be blessed with the assistance of a kind and gentle soul from time to time. A voice of reason when all words are foreign. A light in the dark. Going at it alone is a fools endeavor, even Jesus had disciples.
Many times exist where pure hands, stern and clean, strong and soft, have traveled beneath the surface to pull me out of the grave I dug all on my own. Every time I grasped their gentle touch and immeasurable strength I was saying, “help”. Every time I climbed out with assistance, one thing never changed, I still had to pull.
We are not void of responsibility no matter our situation. If we choose to accept assistance when our helping hand presents itself, then we are bound. We are saying to the helper-”I am all in”.
This doesn’t mean you will never fail again, far from it. It means that now and forever, I will reach my hand into the soft ground in search of your hand wanting nothing more than to pull you through the crust of the earth into the sunlight above. I will always wonder if I did the just thing, the honorable thing, the enough thing. But…I will not look back and I will not lose sleep if I pull and you don’t. It is impossible for me, for anyone, to complete challenges for one another. We need never go it all alone, but no one should ever have to fight our battles for us.
I will stand over the grave that you are buried alive within making sure no one shoves their hand in until you are willing to do your part less you pull another in with you. I will make it my life’s work to assist those willing, and those unwilling, by offering my hand to those who will work, while withholding from those who refuse to try.
The souls willing to pull when I pull, those are the souls that keep me awake at night. The fighters. Broken and bleeding and yet still crawling. I will pray a prayer that will never end for them. For those that will not lift a finger and take responsibility, I will pray all the same, but it will to stop there. I can’t make you take my hand, you have to do that all on your own.
*Score seconds held
Tabata-Hollow to Superman
Post impression to comments.