I Am Small

It is Tuesday. Tuesday night at 10:24 to be exact. And already this week, I have taken my brother to the Emergency Room, I have listened to one student tell another he was not allowed to grieve the loss of a loved one, I have talked with heartbroken friends, I have left many unanswered text messages and calls for a friend I am worried about, and I have comforted the weary.

I am lacking in sleep and I was late to a final exam yesterday after a comically awful morning and yet, those problems seem so tiny. The inflammation of my own anxiety seems so tiny right now. My own feelings seem so tiny.

Because I live in a world so much bigger than myself. My problems are minute

compared to others. My anxieties small. My thoughts of little consequence.

And yet, when I was a child, the world revolved around me. When I skinned my knee on the playground and heard an ambulance, they were coming to rescue me and to repair me. When I was sad and looked out the car window at night, the moon was following me to keep me happy and offer me company. When I was tired, the sky darkened to give me rest.

But now I realize that when I skin my knee or burn my hand and I hear an ambulance, that it’s not for me. It’s for someone who needs it. Desperately. And when I’m sad and lonely in the car, I know the moon isn’t following me to comfort me. It’s an illusion. And when the sky darkens it is not because I am tired, but because of the gravitational pull of space and our planet and so many things that are so much bigger that me. So much bigger than me being tired.

And then I feel small. Sometimes small in a bad way, but often I feel small in a good way. It can be overwhelming and intimidating to be small, but it can also be liberating and freeing. My emotions are not in charge of the moon’s position or the color of the sky. My every minor injury does not necessitate an ambulance. No, my emotions dictate my actions. When I am tired, I rest. When I am lonely, I seek company and community. When I am hurt, I bandage myself.

It is not because I am alone, no, just the opposite.

Because if I were alone, everything would be about me. If I were alone, everything happening would be about me, a direct result of me, or something causing a specific reaction. But I am not alone. No, there are people everywhere. Some do good. Some do not. We all do both.

We are small. But, just because we are small, that does not mean our actions have to be.

And it does not mean that our feelings are small.

Remember back to when you were a kid. When your best friend told you they weren’t going to play with you at recess and you thought you were going to die from heartache. But as adults, depression feels overwhelming, but too small in comparison to the state of the world to be talked about. Heartbreak doesn’t seem a good enough reason to grieve. We are told that there is a period of time when we can grieve, but after that it has to be ok.

When we were young, when we were small, we felt freedom to feel every emotion, to express the drama and exaggeration of our joys and our pains.

What happened? We grew, but our control on the universe did not. When did we become so important that our problems were not?

Why doesn’t the moon follow me as an old comforting friend?

Maybe, just maybe, if I’m still willing to accept that my feelings are valid and that my emotions do impact me as when I was little, maybe my old friend The Moon will follow me once again.