Everyone needs an escape. An escape from the realities of oppression and defeat. To say that no one needs an escape from these realities is denial of the very reason for escape. Fear. We each have our own personal trials and fears, but we all have one thing in common-traveling that road alone is near impossible. It's a long road, but if we can stop to take a moment for cherishing the beauty along the road, the crispness of it, the color of the journey, the smells and noises, we are better for it. That is how our story is developed. The saga, the journey, the story....they represent who and what.
I love my job. I love the excitement, the challenge, the compassion, the frustration, the sweat, and the pain. I don't speak of the things that happen inside work, because they are personal and private; they are someone's story. Not my own, but someone's story. I find myself holding someone's well being in my hands; their story is in my hands. I take that seriously in every aspect, and I only hope that I am given the strength and knowledge to take on that responsibility. The responsibility and privilege to carry someone's story on my heart. When I share a part of someone's story through my own, respect that. Respect the gift of life. Respect the gift of death. Respect that I am tired and fatigued because I carry someone's story. Possibly five people's stories with me at any given time. Respect my space. Respect my way of showing compassion. Respect my outreach of love and my inward expression of emotion. Respect me for who and what and not how and why. Respect me for maybe putting their story before yours. Respect me for my choice to place many stories ahead of one story.
No comments:
Post a Comment