"Grief is a pain of the heart, but it assigns itself to our entire body."
That's what Mrs. Parker said, and she would know. She sees hurting people every day where she works at the Healing Place. Rundown people. People with heartache. People with pieces missing out of their lives. You know, everyday people. Call me a sick, twisted soul, but I desperately envy the victims of tragedy. Heck, I'll even call myself a sick, twisted soul. But let me explain.
Go out into a populated area. Close your eyes. Point your finger. Spin in a circle until dizzy. Open your eyes. Approach whoever you're pointing to. Ask someone to tell you their story. More than likely, their story will involve some sort of overcoming-an-obstacle story. It changes us when we fall and when we're broken because that's when we are forced to choke down a bitter swig of reality and get over ourselves. That's when we recognize our complete helplessness and end up a better person for it.
Listen, my life has been no basket of fuzzy peaches, but tragedy has never come looking for me. Or maybe it has, and somehow, I've managed to hide from it for 20 years. Whatever the case, my life so far has been a walk in the slightly-run-down, mismanaged park where it's usually raining and walkways are poorly defined. How can I relate well to someone who's been walking through Atlanta unarmed at 3 a.m.?
Just thoughts. Take Mrs. Parker's advice and talk. Just talk to people and learn them and swap stories. It's good.
Hi Elise, There is not a place on this blog to contact you, so I am leaving a comment. I know Kay Parker too and think she is wonderful. I would like to talk to you about your blog and how I could get you to do a guest post on my blog at ClayMize.com
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