Be kind

It's 6:58am, and my tiny apartment is still quiet, with the exception of one large, extremely homeless-looking dog walking back and forth from the kitchen to the sliding glass door panting in such a way you'd think he just ran a marathon. He didn't. I doubt he even walked more than a fourth of a mile on his walk with Tim this morning.

Thank goodness for quiet mornings filled with nothing but the sound of Blue breathing and our broken clock ticking away. Thank goodness.

Last night I went to bed humming some of my favorite words ever penned, "In the quiet heart is hidden/ sorrow that the eye can't see." I was specifically thinking of Robin Williams and his tragic passing, but my mind expanded to all the people who silently suffer. Having struggled with bouts of depression, I can tell you that depression is real. It is painful, and some moments are so suffocating that reckless endangerment doesn't seem all that reckless; it somehow appears smart and reasonable, which is incredibly dangerous. I know. I've been there.

Whether or not you have ever experienced depression, I can promise you that someone very close to you is dealing with hidden sorrows. Just yesterday, I tried to boost two friends of mine who deal with two very different struggles. I don't always know what to say, but I've learned that saying less is more and that choosing the right words when helping someone is very important. I almost always remind my friends how much I love them and how sorry I am that they feel a certain way. No one should ever try to discredit the feelings one might have because no one knows the inner workings of each individual heart. No one.

Please be kind today and always. If I ever were to get a tattoo, I think I'd ink the words "be kind" in a very noticeable place so as to remind myself and others that although we think we understand everything, we really don't.

Bangarang Robin! Bangarang!