You can sit with us...beep beep.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My people are happy to be on the bus with me. Because lots of us are struggling in some way. So my struggle bus has turned into our party bus. Not shocked at all. It's who my friends are. It's who I am. It's what I do. I collect people and bring them into the fold. Because my fold is often struggle/beautiful chaos, that's where my loves join me. No complaints yet.
So you can sit with me. Bring your heartbreak and your chaos and your struggle. Bring your laughter and tears and love. Know that you are not alone. Know that someone has felt this before and survived. They will be there to reach out a hand a lift you up. Then maybe off they go. To make room for someone who does not yet need a seat. That's when you read out your hand to the newbie. This doesn't work unless we help one another. Unless we share how we survive. Unless we reach out and say - I know, I've been there, I hear you, I see you, come sit with us and take a moment. You are not alone.
Really, that's all we want in life, isn't it? To know that when challenges arrive, we aren't alone. That we aren't alone in the struggle and that we aren't the only person that has ever struggled in this way. Not to minimize your struggle or to bring in comparisons. No. It is to say that some of the most powerful words, I have found, are me, too. I've been there. I get it. It's validating. And hopeful. And if you quiet yourself in those moments you will feel your breath release, your jaw unclench and your shoulders drop.
So, hop on my bus. Apparently it's a double decker now. Find a spot to sit. We are all friendly here. There will be snacks and wine. Love and laughter. New friends. Need a tribe? I've got one ready and waiting. There's always room for one more. The cost of admission? Need. That's it. You need the space, the moment, the relief. You need it, we got it. And you. Always.