They’re nothing special, really, these shoulders of mine. Sun-damaged and freckled, with a rose tattoo on the left. A couple of old acne scars. They sometimes make a popping sound when I do overhead flies with more than 12lbs. Doesn’t hurt, though.
These shoulders of mine have lifted large men in Lay-Z-Boy chairs off of puppy-dog heads (long story), braced buildings (little ones) on the verge of collapse, carried giant bags of feed, grain and dirt. They have thrown hay. They have carried an old friend – in a fireman’s carry – up a flight of stairs to save her life when we almost lost her on a wild night out. Ah, youth.
And many times these shoulders of mine have shook with sobs so violent I thought my ribs would break. I thought my neck would snap. I felt my mind shutting down under the weight of so much pain. Yet my shoulders remained, steadfast, holding the rest of me together. The weight they’ve born is astronomical. Thousands of tons of sorrow – too much for a human to stand. Yet I’ve stood it, upright, under these shoulders of mine.
I read this yesterday, and it really spoke to me. I have often wondered how some people become drug addicts, or how people like my father die of a broken heart (at the bottom of a bottle) while others just withstand the abuse, year after godforsaken annus horribilis.
People who treat life as a game discover they have the option to play to win rather than just take the cards that life hands them. While some things happen as a result of random chance, there’s a lot that can be done to increase the odds that favorable things will come their way. Samuel Goldwyn once said “The harder I work, the luckier I get,” and that’s what playing to win is all about.
Horrible things can happen to people, and after the dust settles it may seem like they have lost all of their resources, all of their options, and all of their opportunities. But survivors see it differently. If they have “nothing,” they can find a way to gradually build up from that position rather than calling it quits.
Dave’s post over at Rock Your Day came at a time when my shoulders very nearly gave way. I was fixing to make a date with the front end of a Toronto subway car. That is if I could stop crying long enough to come out from under the blankets. But once again I’ve found the strength to take the next breath. It hurts. I can feel it rattling in my hollow chest. I don’t know if that strength is a blessing or a curse, and I do not know from where it comes.
What I do know is that I have a seemingly endless supply, and I keep it squared across these shoulders of mine.
Of all the blogs I read, yours has the greatest percentage of mind-blowing self-disclosure. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You remind me that there are actually flawed, crazy, real, admirable people on the other side of my RSS reader.
I cannot know what you have gone through.
Yet, if you ever need – let me know! And as flawed as I am, I AM here…and I WILL be here for you.
Wow gal. I hope it’s working out for you. You have friends here, you know.
Back in the ’50s, there was a popular philosophy called “The Gamesman”. I’ll see if I can find something about it out on the intertoobs somewhere. It talks about the sort of thing you are hinting at — basically, by treating life as a game or contest, the playing of which is to be enjoyed in itself, you lift some of the burdens of life off of yourself.
I worry about you, babe. Remember that there are a lot of people out here who wouldn’t like to find you on the front of a subway car. The commute in Toronto is already abysmal
You are always welcome to rock those shoulders over Margaritas at my house.
The world is a crazy place. Those dhimmified terrorist-sympathizers-apologists-enablers who despise our blessed Western civilization… they should be so full of guilt, that they should be fixing to make that date with the front end of a subway car. But you? You’re good, you’re truthful, and you’re wise. Hang in there. You’re too needed and admired.
Living in Toronto will do that to you.
I’m reminded of the Jerry Butler song “Only the Strong Survive”.
You will survive.
Life’s hard and nobody ever said it was fair. But just the same I’ve always found reason to be thankful for what I have (which isn’t much). But when I look around I find that what little I have is sooo much more than sooo many others I get embarrassed.
My very first girlfriend was killed in a car wreck. She and her father were hit by a guy that was under the influence of drugs. Her father couldn’t live with the pain of losing his daughter, and only child, in such a senseless way. He dwelt on it so much that several years later he killed himself. A few years ago I got a call that the daughter of a friend of mine had threatened suicide and was missing. I found her hanging by an extention cord in a tree. Her step-father had told her she was good for nothing. Not long ago a good friend of mine, one of the top aerobatic pilots in this country, and one of the nicest people you’d ever meet, fell while playing with his two very small children and broke his neck and now lies paralysed. His insurance is just about to play out.
I don’t tell you all that to point fingers or shame, just to open your eyes. Your shoulders are stong. Yes you’ve had more than your fair share, but you also have a future. There is NOTHING you can’t overcome. I, or no one else, can snap our fingers and make the pain go away, but we can look around and see that what we carry we can easily bare, if all these others can tote their load in life. One foot in front of the other. Memories, they can be good things too. I’ll bet you’ve got a boatload of those. You’ve bound to, you’ve got too many friends not to. Strength is never a curse, it’s all in what you do with it. Use it.
Wendy, my friend, hang tough. You are one of the good eggs, and the good guys (and gals) are on your side. We will not be defeated, we shall not submit.
As long as you keep fighting, you are not beaten. Battered, maybe, but still in the fight, and a well placed shot (figure of speech) can turn the tide in a heartbeat.
It can be a wild ride. But that’s what makes it an adventure. The past is gone; we can’t change it. The future is yet to come; we have hope that it will be better. But the Present….that is the gift of right here, right now. Why else would they call it the Present. It is a gift to savor…..
Now, go do wonderful things. And no more talk of an untimely demise….
Always,
Kevin
I disagree with one of your commenters… Toronto isn’t that bad. Of course, I don’t live there any more … and my current city is that bad. Still … please stay away from the edge of the platform and the front of those subway cars. I don’t know your past … but many of your posts show too much sass.
You can always call on us.
Regards.
[...] RIGHT GIRL: “These Shoulders of Mine” …. [...]
Holy cow… there is a couch out here in Alberta if you need it. Fresh clean air, almost no liberals, everybody hates Toronto
Wendy I just realized you are back in Toronto. How can I help. I am back from India at the end of the month. I will at least take you out for lunch!