Everybody Hearse, Sometimes

I'm just going to put this out there:  I brought doughnuts to Fitbloggin (fitness conference).  I traveled many miles to taste their deliciousness and I refuse to feel guilty about this... and I kinda also refuse to share.



So the title of my blog tonight is a play on the R.E.M. song "Everybody Hurts."  A bunch of us went on a a "Haunted Savannah" tour this evening in these beauties:


Joking aside, if you've read my blog for any amount of time, you know that a common theme that I write about is that "everyone suffers."  It's a Buddhist principle that can be applied all around.

Even though I was terribly overwhelmed by the welcome mixer (the sound was loud and I've been alone in my head for the past few days), I was particularly attuned to the number of people who not just felt overwhelmed, but also out of place.  Many people felt that not only were they introverts but that they were also newbies.  Two whammies that are hard to overcome at a conference where so many of us already know each other.

If that was you, I just want you to know that we've all felt that at some point -- that we don't belong, that we don't deserve to be our friends, that we've fallen from grace or that we're no longer to be counted among the peers.  Many of us have felt vulnerable and scared because when we arrive at Fitbloggin, we're not an improvement on the last time people have seen us, and worse, we may be a disappointment.  But among all the gut-wrenching horrible feelings, is the one where we feel like we're invisible, our voice doesn't matter, or that we're in the way.  That's not the case.  Everyone who takes the initiative to show up belongs here.  And it doesn't matter what happened yesterday or the day before.  You're here now.  You are ONE OF US.  And you better get in on the group hug.

Another thing that reminded me of the theme that "everyone hurts" is an email that I got from my landlord today.  He says:   "I wish you would understand how sick I am and how hard this is on me.  You named my only baby left, Leo and I don't want this to be ugly." 

I abhor that he's playing on my sympathies... as if I didn't lose Spike in February... as if I wasn't in the hospital recently because of my back.   He could have used his experience of his own suffering to bring about compassion and say "hey, sorry the fridge is broken.  I know you don't need that stressor right now."  Instead he said "Please plan to vacate by June 15th and you will never have to deal with the noisy compressor again.  You are welcome to leave on the 1st of June (or tomorrow) if you feel the is not lived up to my responsibilities."
 
 I can't engage emotionally with this.  Yes, everyone hurts sometimes and we use our own knowledge of suffering to bring about compassion.... but sometimes we use our own suffering to assert our limits and say "No more."