advice

don't you hate it when someone
tells you how to live your life?

I witnessed the effects of good intentioned
advice tonight...it was not asked for nor appreciated.

this poor woman, I've been there myself,
is going through divorce proceedings
and shared a bit about that tonight.
she was on the verge of just outright
bawling...and instead of allowing space
to grieve, she was cut off with a funny anecdote.

why are we so afraid of silence?
uncomfortable tears?
having been there I know what I need
when crying...an ear. that's all.

this room we share (in divorce recovery)
is flourescent, huge, with chairs scattered,
and crossed legs.

I feel angry that the surroundings are full of chaos
and bright lights. as if we are under this probing light
expected to pour out our hearts contents.

if I am asked to share my shit,
please do not analyze and interpret.

please give me my space to rage
and cry and mend.

thankfully I am surrounded by friends who seem
to understand space. I am utterly amazed
by these friends who
can just be with me in my shit.

maybe that is why I was so pissed off tonight
when I saw "facilitators" act so carelessly.

there has to be room for mistakes and I grant
that to these facilitators, but it seems to happen every
week. these are people who have gone through
divorce themselves, but hey, give us a chance to
go through it now. ok?

enough. it's been expressed.


can be with them in their time of need.