Insignificant Obsession

Again, not sure why the title.  it just came out.

I need to write - but questioning each letter pressed, each word formed, each sentence misunderstood.

Sometimes i want something so desperately and i begin to climb that mountain to attain for which is sought - but each time i look up, i seem to see the faces of those who already have climbed before me - standing strong with hands held high and i tend to lose momentum.

This blog, once again, will circle around grief.  I am finding misplacement ---- is that a word?  I see what I want to do, where I want to be in the picture, where I want joy to be --- but this is a losing battle, for it is not my world; it is hers.  But I have been strongly invited in as a guest.

To see where others that match me in this world have done within their own journey makes me highly question mine.

The benefit raised, from beginning to end, something close to 7,000.00.  I am not pleased with this number, for I have observed what others have done in the same circumstance.  But again, it is not my world to make the decisions.  I am the outsider, not the one who is living within this agony.  So, I step up time and time again.  What can I do?  How can I fix it? Where is a need to be met and I will meet it.  But I have to search and to ask and in the interim, i read and research - which bascially means that my whole damn existence is entrenched in other people's grief and their words of loss and their shattered livlihoods.

Some get up and bake every morning  Some escape to other countries to find peace.  Others are incredibly pro active and begin foundations and host galas and create 5k runs to raise awareness of this or that.  I sit down at 8:48pm and read those blogs.

I send out emails to those assumingly close.  Let's DO something, I say.  Let's light a fire and make this life worth living!  Let's plan, Let's execute.  Help me help them.  The door continuallly closes in my face and defeats me on that mountain. 

So, tonight, I am feeling sorry for myself.  I am feeling the loss of what I could do if i were on the other side of that door.  I am feeling anxious of my shortcomings.  We are veering on 9 months. 

I told Joy the other day, what would her life look like if she were not tossed and turned and toiled under from every wave that hits and smacks her down.  How much would she have been able to grow....  I feel akin to these feelings.  What could have been done if doors opened. 

I will close this blog and continue to read the others that hold a space upon my desk top.  I will read about Liz or Mikey, Kalylee or Thomas and their lives that ended to abruptly.  I will listen to the one who grieves and suvives them and I will try to keep climbing that mountain....but it really isn't mine to climb.  My job is to keep hold of the safety net below and encourage those who are in need of climbing.

Thanks for listening