The afternoon of the full moon, Tom asked how my day was going just as I was deeply mulling over all the times I was too scared to reach out to others in the fight and say, “I see you struggling, how can I help?” We stared out the designery window talking about outreach and community, when it’s appropriate to get involved in the affairs of others, especially when living in a fish bowl. He listened, as friends do so well, while I spewed out a lot of damage and fear. My full moon madness.
It takes courage to be helped. It’s crippling to not address distant sounds of fright and fury. Is it better to turn a blind eye? Am I overreacting? Too sensitive, altruistic, projecting? Do we all look back and think “I could have done more.”