to one who is worthy

Why am I so allergic to should?

To the “tut tut” of onlookers and experts.

Could not I, who have so blatantly failed at success, reasonably put to use this sage wisdom of the masses? Could I not benefit from heeding? So what if the words are trite, quick, and obvious? Who cares if these judgements are thinly veiled in helpfulness, and that the well of pity from which they spring has not seen me, nor known the details of my wounds? Am I not a beggar – needy and suffering long? How can I then be a chooser? Does my life still belong to me if I have made such choices as to be suffering so? Surely the wisdom of another is better. Any other.

Nay, the arrogance offends me.

I refrain from offering my shoulds to others for this very reason. All the shoulds hurled at me in my deepest need stuck only like arrows in my back. The utter lack of ability, options, and agency that blocked my way were unknown and unseen. The puzzle of my situation prevented any such easy solution. And every offered cure was a new reason for shame. I am painfully aware that kindly-intended arrows of helpfulness can cut deep. Experience is a skillful teacher.

In a world where shoulds are thrown around like the wind – floating and curling and gusting – my tender heart becomes weary. I cannot bear to place the burden that so crushed my own spirit on another. I cannot offer help without the searing memory of how much devastation will result if I have misunderstood the situation even by an inch.

So don’t come to me for advice until you have bared your wound to my weeping eyes.

And don’t be hurt if your well-intended ideas for my life-renovation project fall around me like snow. I will trample them underfoot as I walk steadfastly to the dwelling of my sister. This gift of all gifts who has known me and loved me from the day I bravely burst into the world. She is worthy to give me many shoulds because she knows. She sees. And when I unearth long-hidden wounds, she will sit patiently to hear their ugly names, to weep with me over newly discovered destruction, still smoldering.