I’m Still Alive

Seattle was wet like it usually is. Despite the rain, we were smiling. It was Valentine’s Day after all, and we were together.

seattle

We’d wandered into a cozy bar and took turns feeding the jukebox. Sipping on drinks, we sang along to Van Morrison and Al Green, nodding and humming. The jukebox shuffled – a pause – and then my song, Pearl Jam’s “Alive” clicked on.

Eddie Vedder belted out his infamous line “Oh, I, Oh I’m Still Alive,” and the man at the bar began swaying side to side. He looked as if he was made of stiff limbs rather than muscles that bend and flex. We watched him with sideways glances from our tiny red vinyl booth. A guttural yell escaped from his mouth and filled the tiny tavern, pushing against the walls. It occurred to me that he was trying to sing along. The word “Alive” was momentarily audible but the syllables were drawn out and muffled as if he had a cotton ball under his tongue. 

The bartender kindly told him it was time to leave. His behavior was beginning to interfere with the other patrons. One too many drinks; and perhaps, one too many heartbreaks.

Although it was a painful sight to watch – a grown man in his late 50’s three sheets to the wind, mumbling and stumbling, unaware of the impact he was making on those around him – there was something about it that stuck with me weeks later.

It’s the brokenness that was so clear, and the humanity I saw beneath this man’s moment of rawness. Although his actions were jarring, they were also somehow comforting. As two friends guided him to the sidewalk to take a cab ride home, I saw a man who was lost. And I also saw a man fighting something – or maybe for something. For what, I don’t know, and I’ll never know. But I imagine it to be love. The love we all crave so deeply. Not just from others, but from ourselves. And with that comes acceptance – knowing that you are okay just the way you are.

I recently turned 28, and birthdays have a way of making me take stock of things. I’ve had a lot of gains, and also a lot of losses in my time here thus far. And in the depth of my grief, I’ve even felt as if I’m at risk of losing myself. But tonight, as I feel the sharp edges of wounded places in me, I remember this man and Eddie Vedder and the words, and even though I feel swallowed whole by emotion sometimes – I’m still alive. You could even say they’re proof of it.

Inch by inch, I get a little closer to something that resembles love; maybe even acceptance.

bridge

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In Honor of Valentine’s Day: The Road to Compassion & How Being Bullied Turned Out to be a Blessing

This is a special post for Valentine’s Day, centered on the theme of compassion, one of the most powerful and transformational forms of love in this world. It’s not necessarily an emotion we’re born with, but instead something we develop through the breaking open of ourselves and our hearts. Just like the lotus that unfurls gorgeous petals from the mud, compassion is an alchemical force that expands the heart to encompass others. It’s a healing agent that only multiplies when acted upon.

COMPASSION: the feeling of empathy for others; the emotion that we feel in response to the suffering of others that motivates a desire to help. (Wikipedia)

Something you may not know about me is that I was badly bullied for more than a year when I was a little girl in elementary school. My experience recently came up in a conversation with a friend when I shared with her the story of Colin, a boy who told his mother he didn’t have any friends. Colin struggles socially, in part due to a disability. He eats lunch alone in the office every day because the other kids don’t like him and won’t let him sit nearby. His mother had wanted to organize a birthday party for him next month and was heartbroken when she heard the truth about Colin’s experiences at school. In response his mother started a Facebook page with the intention to show Colin that he is loved. In a matter of weeks, the page has gained over one million followers and his story has gone viral. Colin’s mother plans to surprise him on his birthday with all the wonderful comments people have left him from across the globe.

When I read about Colin’s story, two things struck me: we happen to have the same birthday and he is about to turn 11, just two years older than I was when I suffered significant anxiety and sadness each day at school due to the teasing and bullying of some of my peers. My heart dropped at the thought of his loneliness and teetering self-worth. So I wrote to him on the Facebook page and told him a shorter version of the story I’m going to share with you.

“But why did they pick on you?” my friend asked. It was such a direct question and one I hadn’t thought about in many years; I was caught off guard and paused to take a breath. A sharp pang shot through my torso as an image appeared of my 9-year-old self crying each day after school as my bewildered mother looked on, wanting nothing more than to protect her daughter from social humiliation and emotional pain at such a fragile stage of life – a stage when self-esteem either buds or shrinks due to the direct impact of external forces, such as peer approval.

There is no clear answer to my friend’s question, because bullying is rarely about the victim, and almost always about the power the victimizer gains from minimizing another person. In other words, it wasn’t as if I had done something to warrant the attacks. I was just a sensitive and kind girl who was an easy target because I let the taunting affect me. And could anyone blame me? I was in the valley of girlhood, awkward in my skin, feeling the societal pressures of fitting in, the high expectations of beauty, and just barely beginning to know myself. As soon as peers criticized me and my appearance, my self-worth plummeted. Since I’ve always been someone who wears my emotions on my face, my perpetrators could see the instant result of their efforts and they got an ego-boost from that.

Thankfully, my parents, although distressed about the situation, were incredibly supportive (which is more than I can say about my teachers and the school’s administration). Ultimately, they decided to move me to a new school to turn a page and get me into a safer space. Although I was apprehensive at first, it turned out to be the fresh start I needed, and the wounds of the bullying gradually dissipated, replaced by normal coming-of-age joys like sleepover parties, getting my ears pierced, going on my first movie date and buying my first music album. The following year, I purposefully went to a middle school where I knew my elementary tormentors wouldn’t be. And something amazing happened. I made friends – lots of them. I played team sports, I joined choir, and I thrived in my classes. Over time, I grew into a stronger person with a deep sense of justice, individuality and awareness for the wellbeing of those around me.

I began feeling what I now know is compassion. As a result, I actively stood up to peers who treated others poorly, and comforted their victims. I regularly befriended the underdog in school, offering words of encouragement and kindness to those I knew felt left out. After all, I had been through what they went through and I knew it wasn’t right, and moreover, that no one deserved to feel like they’re worth less than they are.

Through Colin’s story and revisiting my own, I’ve come to the conclusion that being bullied as a kid actually turned out to be a great blessing. I am so thankful that I feel for others and know that my heart is big enough to hold so many. Although it is at times painful to feel empathy because a little of another’s pain then becomes my own, I choose to stay open-hearted, or compassionate, because it enriches life and feels right. The truth is, I believe in love. Not just the romantic, gushy kind you might have with a significant other, but the heart-opening, spirit-uplifting, moving-humanity-forward kind that we can have with a perfect stranger. Moments of love like this make life worth living. And they’re contagious, that’s the best part! Compassion shared just grows and grows and grows and grows until it has reached farther than you can ever calculate, moving from person to person, touching lives.

Keep in mind that any kindness you show others will be returned to you ten-fold. I believe this because I’ve witnessed it. Just tonight I received a beautiful letter out of the blue from a friend across the country who I haven’t seen in over a year. In her letter, she described how I’m making a difference in her life through writing on this very blog. Wow. There are several words to describe how that feels to hear, but here’s the first that comes to mind: affirming.

Whatever you do this Valentine’s Day, I hope it involves loving. That’s what it’s all about after all, and not just the holiday, but life in general!

I’ll leave you with a photo of a few Valentines cards I made for friends and family during my lunch break today at work 🙂 Love is in the air — I can feel it! Can you??

A few of my Handmade Valentines Day Cards

A few of my Handmade Valentines Day Cards