After yesterday’s post, more than one friend has remarked that my life is full of grownups who are inclined to throw tantrums—that is another description for men and women who tend to go bad-shit on those who have nothing but love (and perhaps a truth or three) for them.
I’ve been thinking about those words, even discussed them with my Piano Man and my friends Lorelei and Dee. And the four of us came to the same conclusion: sometimes (okay, most times) we need to remember to be kind and as understanding as we can be with people who don’t seem to deserve it because we know that we, too, have had those moments.
The currently unhappy friend from “Seeing Red and Spitting Fire,” for instance, was there for me during a period in my life when all I wanted to do was jump in a very cold hole and stay there until I could look at the world without hating it because it had left Death take my little brother from me. I didn’t lash out at her, perhaps because I’m not the lashing out type. But my goodness, did I say some generally awful things.
I think about those days, and I wonder how anyone (who didn’t have to) wanted to endure my company. And in a way, I had it a bit easier than she did. Let me explain… My brother was taken from me against his will. My friend’s husband chose to leave her. And that, my Wicked Luvs, has to make a soul feel all kinds of ugliness and rejection.
Right now, I’m so happy with my own life, with the people who fill it, with the things happening with my writing (I will tell you about this in a few weeks!) that I can take on anything the imps of misery throw my way. Seriously, the list of the awesome buries the not so splendid so deep in a lake of bliss that the nasty barely makes a ripple. If I had been going through a crappy period in my life, it might have been difficult to find a way (or the will) to understand my friend’s behavior. But at the moment I can stand in the center of the most volatile of relationships and still dance.
I believe that human beings should help each other to be happy. And when helping comes easy, my heart turns the “should” into a “must”. Someone once asked me, “Why would you choose to work with the dying, the disfigured; with people who have given up on hope…?”
The answer to the question is easy: I have enough hope and smiles for me and thirteen armies; the universe blessed me with soul-eyes that can see awesome wherever it lurks; I believe in the power of my most potent weapon: infectious heartfelt words and chronic positivity (extreme sexiness and total lack of modesty, too, but the last two rarely get the credit they deserve ;-).
The picture below shows the latest of a collection of necklaces, charms, dolls... friends from around the world sent me, in an effort to be with my Piano Man and me on our special day. I’m sharing this one now because Mina, the author of Green Witch with Sprinkles, is fighting an illness that makes her body hurt so much that she can barely function. If she can share my happiness and add to it, while she’s agonizing, just imagine what the rest of us could do for each other while our hearts are bursting with love-filled delight (and manageable pain).
Be you. Love fiercely. Laugh. Crush misery under the steps of your happiest dancing moves. And if someone’s attitude needs a kick… change steps and get them in the shins while smiling.