It has been well over two weeks since I last stared at the blank box on the screen hoping to be imbued with some sort of coherent thought which may or may be of value to someone other than myself. While Id like to think I was too busy to take the time the truth is I have had plenty of time. I spent off days watching movies, reading books, playing games, and doing whatever else suited my fancy. Sure there were a few days of work in there and a couple days of feeling sick to my stomach but by and large I know I had the time to write yet for some reason I could never bring myself to do it.

If only it were a lack of ideas, a desire not to sound pedantic, or some other valid excuse I had for not putting my fingers to the keys, but no, I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know why. Perhaps it is because after that time of reinvigoration I found myself confronted with some old skeletons in the closet that have a way of draining the life out of me. I came back from vacation relaxed and ready to take on the month of July no matter what it brought. Yes there have been some really fantastic times but still, those skeletons found me.

Friends struggling with, losing or quitting jobs, others battling cancer, and still others people being pressured to do something or act a certain way because, as we all know, we all live lives in a fishbowl and there is always a party line to tow. Rather than waste time writing about each and every situation, which I did consider doing, I let those situations fester. What else could I do? I was not in any position to change the circumstances and blogging about it would just have been another adventure in being jaded.

But as I sit here tonight, punching away at the keys, the faces and names of those in my life who are struggling keep flying through my mind. It is here that those skeletons rear their ugly heads in the form of questions. Did I do the right thing by walking away? Was there something I could have done if I would have stuck it out in St. Louis? Now that I am going who else is there to protect and defend those whose voices will never be heard? Is there a way back? Should I even attempt it? I don’t know. The altruistic idealist in me has an answer, so does the jaded cynic. And so I ask myself yet again, what am I to do?

Recently, a turn of phrase has worked its way into my regular vocabulary, it is what it is. There are those with whom I interact who could never hear that phrase again and be happy about it because I have been using it so much. But the reason I am is because of the need I have right now to remind myself that I do not have control over the situations I so desperately want to. But beyond that need to remind myself of my lack of control this phrase urges me on to deal with things as they come at me. It pushes me, forces me to interact with those situations as they are, not as I would like them to be. It would be really easy for me to sit back and magically fix things and change them to the way I want or think they should be but reality doesn’t work that way.

Things happen. People change and so do circumstances. Rather than run from them, be afraid of them, or think that I could have done something to prevent it, I need to engage it, as it is. I need to stand along side my friend and remind him that he is stronger than he thinks. I need to be there for those who have been hurt and are jaded like me, because I know that pain and that road is too tough to walk alone. For every person flying through my mind right now I know there is something I can do. It may not be much. It may not fix anything. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be who I need to be, where I need to be, for who I need to be.

Life.

It is what it is.

But that doesn’t mean we have to go through it alone.