When I was a kid we had a basement, if you could call it that, where the best jars of bread and butter pickles in the world dwelled. Every now and then my mother would request one of those jars to be retrieved for the family meal, and when it came to being my turn, I literally cringed. You see, the light was at the top of the stairwell and these edible treasures were deep in the depths of what could be dubbed, the hole. Technically, there wasn't anything down there that could actually harm anyone, I mean what could a dirt floor with some shelving units do anyway? Regardless, it was the idea of being so far from the source of light should a sibling decide to test my moxie by turning the light off while I were still down there.
Now, on the rare occasion that this actually did occur and I was left in a blackout, what do you think solved my dilemma? Here I was stuck at rock-bottom ― literally stuck at rock-bottom. With no light, the overwhelming sense of fear from the darkness would ripple up and down my body and leave me standing on the spot in a state of temporary paralysis. The best I could come up with, was a cry for help ― that's it. Now, if you thought that all I simply needed was the light to be turned back on, you'd be right, but by who? I still needed a compassionate hand outside of the darkness to pull that off.
The thing is, I didn't need much, I just needed a light. I didn't need a superhero ― someone who would turn on the light, come charging down the stairs, sweep me off my feet, and carry me to safety. That would have been pretty cool, but overly dramatic. I didn't need someone who would want to know all the details that lead up to my discomfort, and then tell me, “There's nothing to be scared of. It's all in your head. You're going to be fine.” That would have been true, and in the right frame of mind, I might have even seen that as supportive, however, in my wrong frame of mind, it's the last thing I would want to hear. For some reason, reasoning can sound so condescending when I'm afraid. The only thoughts I'm thinking at that point are, “Sure, that's easy for you to say from where you're standing, BUT!” And I also didn't need anybody to empathize with me either with comments like, “I know what you're going through. I've been there. It happened to me too, when I was...” NO! In essence, they would not have had to come down into the darkness on any level, physically, mentally, or emotionally, and join me where I was at.
They simply need to be quietly standing...
…right at the source and just turn on the light. Once that was done, the shadows would have disappeared and I could have found my own way out. I just needed the light to shine that truth for me.
How does that fit into the above journal cover's message?
Well, to me, when I'm in a state of feeling the blues, what I'm really experiencing, at the root of the matter, is fear, and just like in that basement, I'm standing in some gloom longing for some light. And like I said above, I don't need someone to join me in the confusion, the next thing you know, there's a bunch of us lost.
No, I just need someone to arrive, stand in their peace and turn on the clarity; turn on the quiet knowingness that all is well regardless of what my obscured view is showing me at the moment. I just need them to be like that little yellow flower, who in the middle of it all can radiate her true colours so that I can be reminded of who I really am before I became blue.
Then pretty soon the whole bunch of us are back to being who we naturally are in truth.
So, in conclusion, the next time you encounter others who are experiencing the blues, emanate some compassion by just being you.
That's all for now.