It wasn't pretty.
Unfortunately, one of the sweetest friends I have happened to text me right in the middle of the worst part of that storm, like at the worst possible moment. He asked me how I was. A routine question.
Lie? Tell the truth? Ha ha.
"At this exact moment, I am horrible," I texted back.
He'd never heard me say anything like that. Ha ha ha. He immediately went into sweet friend overdrive, asking me about my health, attempting to comfort me, cheer me up, reason with me.
I'm really, really, really glad I have a friend like that.
However, as I pondered over it later, I wondered as I sometimes do, what the need is for us to hurry out of our fear, anger, sad (etc) states.
In my case, my anger was helpful. It brought some things of my life into sharper focus--what is working, what is not. It had a message I was grateful for. It had a strength I needed. The anger lasted all day until later in the evening when I cried it all out in the face of a mini-epiphany.
It was actually an important--dare I say good--experience.
You know, we are born into this world, and then we spend the entire time trying to transcend earth; or just sometimes flat out leave it. We want the time to be short. We don't want what is here. We want whatever we think comes after. We don't want to jump in the mud and get dirty.
That's like buying a deluxe slip and slide, and then getting a raincoat, umbrella, and rubber boots to go tiptoe on it. What?! Go put your polka dot bikini on (or your Batman speedos!) and hit that thing hard!!
I guess what I'm suggesting is to adjust our expectations; as well as our frame for what some stuff means. Kind of like how a sink full of dirty dishes means that you're eating. A car that breaks down means that you--have a car!
And that when anger or some other not-the-best experience comes--it is a sign that there is a gift, a privilege in it. For me, it meant I saw a lovely side of my friend. It meant I was prepared for an epiphany.
It meant I'm alive.