I’m not the kind of gal that oozes empathy when someone is hurting.  I give the ole pat-on-the-back, “Gee, that bites” sort of loving and then I move along to trying to help.

And I am a very good helper. I can think of a million things I can do to make the current situation better. I can plan, connect and build resources. I can find out issues, and then pull together a plan for resolving them.  I can make stuff happen.

But that isn’t often usually what people need.

And I know that.

People need support. And Love. And someone to listen when they need to talk, or someone to talk when they need to listen.

(ps. I CAN do that last one. I am a GREAT talker)

So, knowing that I usually say the wrong thing (or by DOING things I am doing the wrong thing) I try to stay away until I am needed, or wanted, or requested for my services.  I understand that there are a million better people out there to provide comfort and empathy and nurturing support, and so I let them help.

Or perhaps when the shit hits the fan, there is nothing that is the RIGHT thing to say, or the RIGHT thing to do. Perhaps just being you is the best thing out there.

I know for me as much as I don’t see hair colour or shoe choices, neither do I see disease, or injury or heartbreak.  All I see is moving forward, one unsteady foot in front of the other, and how I can be a stable shoulder to help in the progress.

and perhaps that is okay. . . in the end.