We Bleed

I don’t know what happened in Chesapeake. He never told me. But he was never the same after he returned from that trip. He never came clean about it and has been running ever since. He was gone, leaving all our dreams and aspirations scattered, before I knew what hit us and left us for dead.

At some point in our journey, dreamers usually find themselves wounded on the battlefield of life trying to reclaim their trusting, childlike, sensitive, gentle, empathic and compassionate nature. We bleed. Sometimes we die a little inside. Sometimes another warrior comes along to lift us up and carry us out of the war zone and offers us a cup of tea and a warm soft blanket.

I have been the wounded soldier. I know how it feels to be comforted by compassionate souls. I want to be that healing warrior, too. I know that the world is not kind to sensitive children. No matter what age, race or gender they are.

I wonder… do you have that kind of wounding?

I find that dreamers aspire to remain open-hearted, deeply caring and kind, as hard as it is to do. We seek the silver linings. We want desperately to choose big childlike faith in all that is good and lovely and sometimes unseen. It matters to us to keep believing in what could be, what has yet to be created.

We long to remain deeply sensitive and sympathetic in a world that tells us to toughen up. But we are taught to believe that if we are going to survive, then the childlike part has to be safely hidden in the closet.

I don’t buy it. There’s got to be more than living with a protected heart. Why save all the love? What good will that do?

What is the tonic for such a wound? Well, I do believe there is a warm cup of tea for everything. But beyond that, I also believe the best healer for this ooze is light. Saying it hurts instead of covering it up with bandages. Loving that little child who hurts and has had to pretend they were big all the time when all they want is a tea party with the teddy bears in the blanket fort. Or something equally as playful and soft.

Like a hug.

The tonic, distilled to three simple things for today: A cozy soothing cup of tea and a warm blanket. Let the warm light shine on the wound. Give the child inside a hug.