Fighting For Flight

First published in the print column, Strictly Haresay

We live in very different times from how things were just a couple decades ago, and our collective mental health seems to be suffering for it.

Yet wise is the person who can successfully navigate the line between being of service to others and sticking their nose where it doesn't belong.

This is a subject on which I probably don't have a popular opinion in certain circles. However, my life experience has brought me to a place of understanding where I believe it's very important to be careful with how one approaches the act of helping others.

We all have our own unique set of experiences and perceptions—our lives really are our own. This can be difficult to accept when someone we care about is going through a really tough time—wrenching losses, harrowing transitions, on-going addictions. Life is rife with tripwires for tragedy. No one is exempt.  

Looking back over some of the difficult times I've endured, it's very clear to see that there were some things that no one could help me undo or overcome. But the truth is, it was necessary for me to work through those experiences my own way, in my own time. No matter how difficult it may have been for others to witness, it really was no one else's job to fix things for me, lest I be robbed of the opportunity for my own personal growth.

I believe the experiences of another—even the painful ones, maybe especially the painful ones—should be recognized as the result of choices the individual has made, or a lesson thrown upon their path. At the end of the day, who are we to intercede and interfere with that process in the life of another person? 

Through my roughest of times what always aided me most was never someone—however well-meaning—telling me what to do and how to fix things, or stepping in and attempting to take over for me. Where I gleaned the most comfort and inspiration; where I found a truly solid sense of strength, was through those I knew living and shining boldly in their own lives, like beacons of light on the horizon, their mere existence leading me out of my darkness. 

We all know someone who is hurting, someone who is their own worst enemy; someone making choices, again and again, that leads them further into their own hell. We ache for them. We cry for them. We want so badly to do something for them. But most often, the best we can offer is just this:

Be there.

Voice your care and concern, but accept where they are, however low.
Honor who they are, however broken.
Respect what they're going through, however awful to watch.
Trust that when they're ready, they will do the work necessary and, like the butterfly that must fight to break free of its cocoon, they will be all the more strengthened for taking flight.