Just trying to help, Bra.


It’s shocking when they get mad at you for trying to help them

Then they become blind to the patterns they set up that block your help.

I have found myself near begging for help on how I could help people.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about genuine do-gooder type of stuff.  As much as I love the image of me with a cape, I find myself afraid of even a kind word to people sitting still on the sidewalk.  I skitter from that kind of help like a mouse.  Anything in motion, a nod, carry on, that’s manageable.  Actual contact, engagement, the lights go on and Iike a flash the shadows.

I’m working on that; miserably.  I’m finding the modern day Samaratan thing to be difficult in the translation.

No.  I’m talking about let’s move the couch kinds of stuff.  Mutually beneficial tasks.  Projects that take a few and help a few.  Even other people’s projects that I’m paid to do things like…help.

I had a Sisyphus with this job recently in the prep.  The Help me Help you had the wincing effect of a personal colonoscopy.  My kid beat up their kids.  I threw up on their wedding dress.  I burned off their mustache.  I drove over their turtle.  I gave their Grandma herpes.  Cascade in the soup.  Poop toothpaste.

Simple questions like “what would you like?” and the sprinkler system went off.

So strange.

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