“Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before–more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.”
― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

      I have been pushed in many ways this year to become…more. I say pushed, because it wasn’t a change that I welcomed at the time. I’m thankful for it now, but at the time it was an option of last resort.

     It’s not that I had never, ever cried before this year, but it was rare. Now, I let those emotions run through me and sometimes spill right out.

     I’m not manipulative with my tears. I’m honest.

     Truth is, I was kind of a crap therapist until I started getting real. You can’t tell someone that it’s ok to feel, to encourage them to share their most sacred thoughts and fears, if you won’t allow yourself to ever be moved by them yourself.

     The world we live in today is one of disconnect. If we all looked each other in the eye and cried a little bit more, I think we’d be better people for it.

     Teenagers can catch a whiff of b.s. at 20 paces. If we’re trying to teach future generations to be compassionate, to embrace sorrow and reach out, we need to do a better job of it ourselves.

     I showed a video of Columbine to a group of teachers yesterday, today I grieved with them and their students. To say these teachers are brave doesn’t cut it. They are compassionate, protective, full of love, and so much more. The best teachers are real. The best doctors, ministers, politicians, people.

     Today, stop looking away. If someone you know is struggling, look them straight in the eye and say “I’m here.” I’m here. You’re here. We’re here together.

Because in the end, isn’t that what it comes down to? I’m here. You’re here. We’re here together. You’re not alone.

Keep sharing moxie.