your daily rock : help them get started
Years ago when Tess was little, I tried putting her down for a nap and she started screaming. And I mean screaming. Kicking and screaming, Tess bellowed at me from her little bed, her mouth square with anger, large tears spurting from her eyes, her tiny hands frantically pulling at my clothes. She screamed and screamed; I thought she was being mean—scratching at me in anger, it seemed, trying to hurt me.
But finally as I turned to go, resolute and ready to POP with frustration and with my need for some quiet time and with anger that she was denying me that serenity and on the verge of my own screaming tantrum fit, as I turned to go and leave her to her fit, I heard what was really in her voice, what she was screaming at me.
It wasn’t anger, but fear I heard. And as I stood at the doorway, my back turned to her, I could finally make out what she was screaming, over and over and over again. I could finally understand the words she was saying: “Just help me get started” she screamed in that sobbing, catching toddler way, “JUST HELP ME GET STARTED!” she pleaded with me, her clawing at me the gestures of a drowning person, trying to get hold of something that would save her, desperate to have me help her.
“Just help me get started.”
Tess just needed help getting started on that wave to sleep, a story, a song, a restful word, perhaps. She just needed help getting started. It wasn’t anger, but fear; it wasn’t selfish, but scared; it wasn’t mean to me, but needing to be connected to me—she just needed help getting started.
Just help them get started, those people around you who are hurtful to you or angry with you. They’re just fearful and need help getting started, settling down, embracing the darkness, being in that quiet space with just themselves when the shades are drawn.
Love,
(These beautifully painted rocks are created by Kim Mailhot, aka The Rock Fairy.