Defeated

It doesn't matter the size of the problem or the scope of the problem. When trouble or stress take aim, and it happens to you, it's ultimately your problem and yours alone. Maybe the problem affects others, but there is always that centre, that core, the root of that problem that is yours. Others can sit and watch, hold their breath, pray for you, cheer you on, or even silently think, "I'm glad that's not me." It doesn't matter. In the end it's you and the item of plague at hand.

I have listened to a lot of problems. Problems from best friends, other friends, family close and not so close. I have listened to doctors tell me their woes when maybe they didn't realize they were. I draw complete strangers in without dread. Sometimes a stranger doesn't remain a stranger. You can get a glimpse into any one's world, really. Maybe my heart is open to that.

Lately, a few things have changed without warning. They are not directly my problems or personal struggles but still totally effect me. My sister and her boyfriend fall out for what appears to be for good. I don't entirely understand what got them to this point. There are still missing pieces of the puzzle that I am not privy too. But I understand that. It's what happens as you get older and matters become private between a couple in love. But I didn't truly see the break up coming, just as maybe my sister and her boyfriend didn't. I am sad for them.

My father is sick. I don't say sicker, just still not good. I can cry at the drop of a hat, whether in my own thoughts or whether someone kindly asks how he is doing. There are phrases that make it worse. Hearing that he has to eat now, say the doctors, because soon he won't be able to. He won't have choices soon. He will do the the intense treatment. Treatment that will make him sick so he will hopefully get better. I cried in minutes after seeing him the last time. Felt like a foolish daughter that should have been stronger for her dad. Instead he comforted me and told me he'd be fine.

The search for my own sense of love has changed because of circumstances like this. Finality or a glimpse of a possible end have me questioning everything. When I don't question, and forget to be mindful like a good Buddha would urge, I bury it all up, and plunge head first into a state of denial and at times, even ridiculous behaviour just to escape.

When I am alone and without my children, love is on and off in my world. I know I am blessed with a myriad of friends and family that adore me. It sadly isn't always enough. Lately I am confused by actions of others' that don't equal the things they say to me.

The past three years have included all sorts of different scenarios and situations and yes, problems. I feel guilty for calling some things problems, when others have problems far worse than mine. A good friend tells me that though this may be true, my problem would be unique to me and incomparable. I may be an open book, wear my heart on my sleeve, regret letting so many people in so quickly, but yet I still haven't changed. I talk things out or still include others in the glimpse into my world too.

And I will remember that problems will pass, get sorted and heal, for all of us.