I'm not here for me
I drive by myself only once a week. My drive is to the farm where I find the most peace of any place I've ever been on this earth, but the drive itself is usually reflective and quite fulfilling.
The drive there is usually filled with thoughts of despair and loneliness and how I'm not good enough for the role I'm playing in life. The drive is quiet and sad and I usually cry. There, I said it. I cry. Pretty much the whole 17 or so minutes it takes to get to my happy place. Once I'm there, I wander the fields snipping zinnias and herbs. Marveling at the growth of the sunflowers from the week before. Watching the bees do what they do. Sneaking cherry tomatoes into my mouth while I fill my container. My brain settles into the idea that everything is ok. Everything is more than ok, in fact. It's actually pretty great.
As I see the colors on the flowers and smell the leaves of the tomato plants as I brush by, I think I catch a glimpse of an idea that might make sense. It comes with the breeze and sort of whirls into my head. I can't quite get it into focus. So I wait and pick my weekly share from the farmhouse and load it into my car.
As I pull out of the lot like I do each week, that thought becomes clearer. Today all the sadness is pushed out of focus long enough to squeeze out the meaning of it all. Today I realize that maybe we are not here on this earth for ourselves. We are here strictly for each other.
When we're sad, the first thing we do is shut down. What if we were to instead just give ourselves and all our pain freely away to those who want to help us? What if that's what we are supposed to do? Instead of feeling all the pain and worry, what if we are supposed to trust in one another to fix that pain? What if instead of looking inward, we look out and help others? What if we focus less on our own pain and focus fully on the pain of our friends? If everyone were to do that, maybe we would all be ok.
I know the feeling I get from helping others. It's tremendous. It has a way of taking all the pain I may be feeling and replacing it with hope. We are here for each other. I believe it.