i saw you and spoke to you and you gave me a lukewarm response. you were with a friend and preoccupied. i was on another mission. i hope you know i care about you. i was trying to say so with my eyes. you have been through some fire. being a social worker is a lucky way to live. they find you [or you them], in their darkness, and you have a chance to make a meaningful difference. then you detach and they become just another star in the firmament, and all you gotta do is look around to see the ones who made it, and they light up your life.
These days I see people in a sacred space who are tragically depressed, like they can hardly get themselves out of the house and make it to session. I see people who are in abusive relationships and sometimes with themselves. I see myself seeing people and I don’t know how to help. All the stuff they taught me not always on the ready. What ends up happening is I help create the sacred space in which I see them, and we meet there, and I invite them there again, and I’m not always making any money cuz I volunteer, too, so I may be tired and permanently jetlagged by my nightshift, and I’m sure they see me tired and tryin to pay close attention cuz I care, and hopefully, just hopefully, they will realize they are worth caring for and start to care for themselves a little more, too, but even if they don’t, well that’s okay, too.