“Alice: Really, now you ask me, I don’t think— Mad Hatter: Then you shouldn’t talk.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland

During times of great upheaval, we look for something to balance us, anything that will provide us with ballast in what feels like a storm. It is a rare thing to find, rarer still to find that steadying hand or even that strong arm to give us a feeling that someone else is standing near, lending strength, and will not let us stumble or fall flat on our face.

Too often, what we find instead are those we once believed had our backs are the first to run, the first to hightail it for the door. Then we sit in the center of chaos, wondering how we will sort through brokenness and shattered dreams to make a new life. Too often, the first response is to lash out; we want to know why. Why did you do this? Why did you run? Why did you hurt me? Why didn’t you stay? Why aren’t you here? Oddly, the answer isn’t going to help us fix what is broken or rebuild the life we thought we wanted. The answer is often worse than not knowing.

Within all the chaos, we have meltdowns, and people want to know why; what is wrong with us. They want to offer their best advice during our weakest moments. Instead of listening to us, to what we need, they slide in with their best recommendations to cure what ails us. It really is fascinating how closely linked our pain is to our expectations and how rare it is for others to understand we have them. This is especially true for those of us who spend much of our time alone. When we venture out, it is with our very public face, one we show to keep others at arm’s length and out of our personal world.

When we sit in moments of silence, it is sometimes obvious to us that what we wanted wasn’t for us. If it were, we wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to keep it. I think this is true of nearly every part of our life, from childhood to old age. Those transient things are there to teach us, and no matter how badly we wish they were ours forever, and ever, and a day; they are just lessons in life. So sometimes, we weep, wail, and rattle the bars; then, we move on to the next thing that hopefully will be better for the lessons we have learned. Yet still, we look back and wonder what we did wrong, why we weren’t good enough when we gave all we had, opened ourselves and made ourselves vulnerable to a world that terrified us.

Mad Hatter: “I know a thing or two about liking people, and in time, after much chocolate and cream cake, ‘like’ turns into ‘what was his name again?'”     

 Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland