welcome back

Clare, welcome back...

I read your story...and sat with tears welling up for that strange, drunk man.
Yes, he was publicly intoxicated, but the fact that you could see the pain that made him the person that all on that bus saw at that snapshot of a moment is incredible.
We all carry some pain, some shame, some hidden secret that we don't want anyone else to know. Those that cheered are bullies...they relieved their discomfort by cheering and taunting someone less than them.
It reminds me of Good Friday Mass...we, as the congregation, had to be the crowd in the proximity of the trial...and yell, "crucify him!" over and over. From a very young age I could not make myself join in the chant. It made me uncomfortable to the point of nausea.
I am thankful that another on the bus had the courage and compassion to offer the kindness of getting his bag. There is good in humanity...sometimes it is just hidden deeper than the secrets we keep.

I am thankful that you arrived safely. Take your time catching up. Even though it has been awhile since you saw your grandson, the bond is there and he will show you himself in due time. I am sure that he, and all of the family, is so happy to see you and grateful for your presence.

I have been working through this book, Drops Like Stars, by Rob Bell in your absence.
It has been a good and faithful guide for reflection.
But the next Art is The Art of Solidarity.
You came back at the right time.
It says "suffering unites"...it creates "bonds that transcends whatever differences you have".
I don't know that I understand that, yet.
Or to be more vulnerable...I don't trust that statement.
In my experience the suffering has been an isolating force...
the abuse that I have hidden and silently contained in my psyche has separated me from others...
it has not allowed me to say "Me Too"...
it has made me ruggedly independent...to the point of not needing anyone else...
because I couldn't allow myself to be hurt again.
Suffering was responsible for the construction and maintenance of that wall around my heart that I have been so desperately trying to dismantle...
now that I understand.

Me Too is the beginning of solidarity...
it isn't the suffering that fosters solidarity...
it is openly admitting it...
allowing yourself to be seen...
that's where the solidarity is born.
It is in the reconnection.

Blessings until tomorrow,
Maggie