Monday, January 31, 2022

Jeff Foster ~ Walk me home, my brother

 


The first photo was taken whilst I was undergoing intensive treatment for Neurological Lyme Disease in July last year. I was absolutely terrified and beyond exhausted but managed this smile for the camera.

The second photo was taken a few months later as I - miraculously - started to recover and regain my strength after over a year of fighting  for my life.

And I feel to say this:

Just because someone manages a smile today, or seems to hold a positive outlook, or cracks a little joke, or convinces you that they’re okay, doesn’t mean they’re okay. I was on the verge of suicide the moment that first photo was taken. My brain was under attack and my neurotransmitters were going wild. It was like living in a horror movie 24/7 with no way out. I now understand more deeply than ever why some people take their own lives, as a way to end suffering and rest forever. I’m glad I survived. I’m so very grateful.

This experience of being on the inside of chronic illness has completely cracked me open to a deeper compassion for all my brothers and sisters.

I have no idea what anyone is going through, under their facade, their mask, their personality, their brilliant defences, the “positive” or “spiritual” outfit they wear to survive.

They are trying to survive in the only way they know how.

Spiritual teachers and their students, therapists and their clients, priests, philosophers, life coaches, world authorities, saints and sinners - they are all in pain.

We are ALL trying to survive in the only way we know how.

Let’s be a little kinder to each other. Forgive each other for our masks, our awkwardness, our closed hearts, our weirdness. Go beyond surfaces.

Sometimes we are not okay,
and that’s okay.

And as Ram Dass said, we are all walking each other home, anyway.

 


 

 


2 comments: