22. Years of life that can’t be boiled down to the chorus of a Taylor Swift song (though I will say, happy birthday Taylor, I am honored to be your birthday twin). 2 is my favorite number so I’m claiming this year as one for the books. I had the idea to write about 22 things I’ve learned in the year leading up to 22, but something just wasn’t sitting right with me about that. For some explainable reason, I felt like I needed to write the following instead, so I did…
Sometimes it feels like I have a super power, one that I’ve just begun to really engage. I don’t know what to call it except for extreme empathy I suppose. It’s my super power and my kryptonite which I’ve noticed seems to be the case for most people— their greatest strengths are their greatest weaknesses too. This year I’ve learned a lot more about how to wield this gift but sometimes it overcomes me in waves that I’m not sure I could make anyone understand.
I’ll be standing in the kitchen at 11pm or watching a sun rise at 6:00am and it just hits me. I feel so connected to e v e r y t h i n g. The sights, sounds, smells, and feelings of the moment are so real and present in an unusual way and I am so aware of the world. It’s like time has stopped. A divine hand has pressed pause so that I might step outside myself to see everything else for a moment of fierce and overwhelming clarity of what is happening in other people’s lives. I call it an empathy flash.
Somewhere in the world a baby is being born, a couple is fighting, someone landed the job of their dreams, a cyber attack was defended, a terrorist attack planned, weary people peddle for money, someone is being murdered, someone is being saved, a child is being abused, a child is being loved, someone is going bankrupt, a company hits record sales. A family seeks refuge. A treaty is signed. A door locked, a lock broken. Someone stuffs himself with food. Some buildings are being destroyed, others created. Someone dropped out of college while another graduated. A wedding is happening. A divorce is filed. A kid lost a tooth. A parent lost a job. Grandpa lost his battle with cancer. Grandma ran a marathon. A recording artist in the studio. Torture. Putting firewood in the fire. A pot of noodles on the stove. A broken arm in the hospital. Tai chi in a park. A concert on a stage. Coffee at Starbucks. Shaving. Crying. Kissing. Running. Funeral. Waking up to go to the bathroom. Football (soccer) games. Netflix. Gambling. Thinking. Reading. Hailing a Taxi. Coming out of a movie theatre. Ballet dancers. Sleepover. Frat party. Hair cut. Family dinner. Family fight. Death, birth, death, life.
All at once. For a few minutes I just see it all. But I am not necessarily sad or happy. I am connected.
It washes over me and nothing is really different except that I am no longer overwhelmed and probably a tear or two is streaming down my face because, wow, that was a lot.
To be honest, I don’t know why I felt so compelled to write this at all, let alone today, but I did. And maybe, I’m thinking maybe it’s because 22 feels like a big year. Maybe even my biggest one thus far. And I have no clue why but maybe it’s because I’m so grateful to be connected.
When I woke up today and remembered it was my birthday, I thought, “Wow! I am so grateful I was born!” I reflected a lot on my life and thought about how even though this past year might have been less than ideal (aheh), I am so so grateful to be engaged with this life. There are so many things I don’t know or understand including what this current season of my life will look like but I know deep in my bones, there’s something valuable in being connected. I hope this next year I will wield my powers of empathy with truth, love, and responsibility— not attempting to hold or control that which is not mine to hold but holding space to reflect and connect so that others might remember how vastly loved and important they are as one of many incredible stories taking place in any given moment.
Thank you, Jesus for continuing to show me truth this year and loving me so well always. Sometimes I wonder if you experienced an empathy flash while you hung on the cross. When I experience those flashes I feel a renewed sense of strength, like everything has a purpose in this circle of life and whatnot. You know purpose better than anyone and you were so committed to your purpose as you hung there for me so I can only imagine the depths of your empathy flashes. I hope someday we might be able to revisit that moment together. I don’t know if time works like that but from what I understand, nothing is out of the realm of possibility so I hope. Anyway, thank you.
I’m feelin’ 22.
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