Paradox

My life is full of blog-worthy situations right now. Dramatic, exciting, involving squad cars pulling up at people's houses and vigils in hospitals and accusations of all manner of inappropriate behavior, some that actually happened and some that merely exists in an unquiet mind.

Trouble is, I can't blog about any of it.

They are not my stories to tell, especially while they are playing out in other cities, and I am simply getting the stories second hand.

This blog has been, for 4 years, the place I work out stuff. I write about it, and even if it only makes sense to me, it falls into place. I begin to understand situations and people, why the people are in my life or why I am in a situation. Sometimes, on a really good day, writing about it helps me see the lesson I am supposed to be learning -- patience, compassion, generosity. Funny, those 3 are the ones that come up most often. I guess I still have learning to do.

And for right now, I can't sort things out here. I can't tell the story in order to find my place in it, or to draw meaning from it.

Right now, from where I sit, people are hurting. Some people, who are seemingly irretrievably lost, are hurting even those they love. Some are hurting through no fault of their own. Some are hurting from perceived betrayals. Those accused of betrayal are hurting because their intentions are loving and kind. One is hurting and I cannot manage to muster up even the slightest pretense of sympathy. The situation is horrible, those affected are profoundly grief-stricken ... and I feel real sadness for most of them.

How strange to know that sympathy is warranted and to not even be capable of feeling anything at all for one person in the midst of a bad situation.

I have wondered before if I am a horrible person because I choose not to associate with a number of my relatives. I have agonized over the choices, wondering if I am right to choose my own mental health over family. If I am truly trying to keep my children safe from a world that is entirely lacking in sanity. If perhaps I have exaggerated slights in my own mind and thus done myself a great disservice in my choices.

Yet, every time I wonder these things, I see that I was right. Am right. That these relationships can not be.

And then I worry about those who have not made the choices I have; what will the price be for them? Each of us has to follow our own path and do what we feel is right for us. I just hope that this time the price of loyalty isn't too high for someone I love deeply.