As I move between street and MaineWorks what I feel is this:
It is not easy to show up here at the MaineWorks Circle. No one shows up here because it's been easy. No one shows up that isn't fighting a battle on many fronts. Struggles with past. Struggles with present. Struggles with envisioning a future, of having the energy of hope to propel them forward. Because hope is like that. It isn't passive. It requires an energy and when you are exhausted by life and by all that has happened and all you have done and all that the hijacked brain of an addict will do then there's a storm cloud you have to steer through each day. A mad dog gnashing it's teeth at your heels. And I stand next to them. Hear stories that break my heart but not to the degree theirs have been broken. Of lost and painful and sometimes unjust childhoods; of repeated failures and broken promises and the distance one can grow from what we love in the throes of addiction. I stand there and pretty much want to salute those that can show up. Repeatedly. And for those that cannot, who disappear after a week? I hold you in my heart. A welcome mat at the front door to my heart, swept clean each morning. You have taught me that. Thank you Margo Walsh for living this.