That Twilight Feeling, reprise

These two messages arrived at the end of the year. They speak to exactly how I’m feeling, which is very lonely, very sad, a sense that there is no meaning to my life, a kind of end-of-life version of That Twilight Feeling. Matt describes this sense of aloneness very well, as a consequence of trauma. Checking inside, I see that my inner compass is still aimed at a better vision of life. There’s no “felt sense” to tell me that it might be true, but there’s still a kind of certainly that at least I’m facing that way, even if I’m slipping backwards. Tami Simon speaks to that in her year-end message.

Matt Licata 12/30/21

In addition to the chronic empathic failure and narcissistic injury which goes to the very core of our sense of self, what can be even more devastating is a deep knowing that “I’m alone in this.” The absence of companionship, of feeling felt and understood, is at the heart of trauma and devastating to a human being wired to rest within a relational field.

Tami Simon, 12/31/21

This person I didn’t know continued to approach, and when we were about 10 feet away from each other, this stranger smiled at me with a genuine sweetness … and kept on walking.

That was it; that was the small action.

And for whatever reason (maybe because I had been meditating all by myself for several days), this human act of softly reaching out to me with a gesture of connection broke my heart right open.

Your words matter. Your phone calls matter. Your emails matter. Your genuine smile matters. The way you hold space for another matters. With the smallest of gestures, we lift each other up.

Here on the last day of 2021, I want to remind us all that we matter … to each other. My sense is that we have no idea how many people we touch in small ways with huge impacts. Thank you for every act of compassion you share. I feel grateful to be in connection with you.

This reminded me that if I can do no big things, because of age, trauma, vulnerability to depression, etc. I can at least do small things. I know that calling two people on the phone recently cheered them up a lot and cheered me too. I think of Star, in the Clinic, telling me that she could see my smile behind my mask.

This entry was posted in Depression, Present Day, Trauma. Bookmark the permalink.