Tags

, , , , , , , ,

I write blog posts in my head.

Complete with pictures.

I do it while driving.

I do it when I wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, or get a drink of water. And continue to compose as I fall back to sleep.

They are always lovely, eloquent, and even thought-provoking. I imagine myself sitting at my computer typing. When I am done I hit preview, and read it to check for craziness. Then I must scroll to the top of the page before I can navigate away and hit publish. The problem is when I wake up {or arrive at my destination} the idea has melted, and that lovely post is lost in my dreams {or the day ahead}.

Truth is I forget that I dreamed it and check my blog looking for this amazing post I wrote. It’s nowhere to be found.

I’m sure there is a product out there where I could speak my posts and they could become text, but that’s a whole other thing. One that involves time setting it up, the learning curve, and money getting a new gadget.

This morning I was abruptly awoken from my blog post dream by construction workers. Scott and I live in a lovely older Austin neighborhood. One where the houses are a mix of original, updated original, remodeled, added on and mini mansions.

Since moving here a year ago I have seen a few houses for sale in our neighborhood. Some sell quickly, others sit empty for months. Last spring one particular little house, for sale and empty, had a tree fall through the living room during a storm. I drive by this house on the way to work so I was shocked a day later when the house was gone! And by gone I mean all that was left was a leveled lot. Jump to a few months later another house for sale is leveled, and then another. This time the house leveled is right across the street from ours.

Its funny really how you can hear of someone in a similar situation and feel sympathy for them like when I read of Ruth a blogger friend who is going through a wrecking ball situation near her apartment building. Or when someone is sick, in pain, looses a job, a child, is going through a deep depression. We feel their pain, and want to give them comfort. Even offering empathy or sympathy. But truthfully we forget how it really feels to be in that situation. We put it all behind us so we can move forward.

I mean it’s just construction and will not last forever, but when I read Ruth’s post I knew I could relate. But I was relating with the ‘memory’ of the construction sounds, not the actual sounds, because we usually block out how bad it really was.

So this morning having slept well, lingering on a blog post written in my head, windows open breeze blowing in after months of stifling heat, I was jolted awake by the sound of lumber cracking on concrete. Not the best way to wake up. I tried to recreate my slumber with earplugs, closing the window and turning on the fan. The cracking, slamming, and jack hammering kept sneaking in.

Later, my thoughts went to how I thought I knew how Ruth was feeling when I read her post last week. Sure I remember being in a similar situation years ago with bobcats tearing down the house next door and the noises that surrounded my days until a new house was in its place – hammering and drilling were replaced by music tapped out on black and white keys and children laughing.

But this morning I was angry by being woken up, also knowing this will not be the last morning this happens. I realized how much more I can relate to Ruth’s situation now that it’s right in front of me, even if it is only about construction noises messing with sleep.

How many times do we console a friend going through a rough time having actually been in their shoes? Or cry with a friend over the loss of a child or parent even when we haven’t gone through it? Then later go through the same thing, but forget that others have been in our shoes.

This isn’t about construction, or blogging in my head, it’s about thinking we know what someone is struggling with and offering support. Then later going through it ourselves and really knowing and only then fully able the put ourselves in the others shoes.

No, construction noise will not last forever unlike other life altering things that hit us like a ton of bricks and send us crumbling to our knees, and sometimes even haunt us in our dreams.

Because once we’re through the thing it hurts less when it’s over and we forget how badly it hurt when we were ‘in it’. And sometimes the hurt lingers and turns to depression.

It’s also about reaching out for help even when you think no one can relate, because there’s always someone who can, you just have to find them.

Advertisements