My friend of 24 years passed away last week. Lynn was 39 and lost her 2.5 year battle with colon cancer. This is my first experience with losing anyone this close to me. My first experience with this type of grief.
The feelings that come up shock me. The most prominent one… am I doing this right? When I can’t shed a tear or feel the impact of losing her… am I dead inside? Am I a fraud? Because... In truth, Lynn and I were in a tough spot in our friendship when she passed and I feel like everyone who knew “us” should know we weren’t “us” when she passed. Why the heck am I not not drowning gratitude?!! Why am I so damn grumpy? Why do I feel so meh when I have so much?
After talking so intimately with friends and family this week the thing that has become so clear….
We are all doing our best.
Even when someone thinks your best is their worst.
Even when you think your best is your worst. Especially then.
Because… Nobody is an asshole at the soul level. That pure level we all carry around, but often gets buried underneath other people’s view of you, old patterns, self-preservation, a need to be seen, and all the other intricacies of being human.
This is not about letting someone or yourself off the hook for bad behavior, it’s about compassion.
It’s about realizing that if you would have known better, you would have done better.
It’s about realizing that as Jenna Kutcher says… “hurt people, hurt people.”
It’s about realizing the human-ness in all of us and instead of shaming it a way, we share it. We share those things we assume nobody is feeling, but many are, and, as a result ,we stop silently measuring our character against a false standard of normal.
This just in… there’s no normal. No right way.
In short, the more we love on the parts we hate, the more in love with life we become. And in the end, that’s the point.