I wrote this for a friend who needed a kind word. Feel free to pass it on if you think it would help some­one. I would tell you to sit, hold, and wait a while. To let the tears come if they must. Cry, but cry alone. Learn what alone feels like; try to find the rich­ness of silence, the free­dom of expres­sion that comes from not per­form­ing for your boss, your friends, your spouse, your children. Allow the silence to enter you, breathe it in, let it still the quak­ing in your soul. I would tell you that it will all work itself out. And it will. Take it as com­fort, though it is merely a state­ment of fact. Cause and effect. One in hand with the other. I would tell you that you are lovely. And you are. I do not make these things up. So much of life is mere fic­tion, most of it poorly written, badly deliv­ered, and utterly fool­ish. Take solace in your loveliness, take refuge in your grace. I would tell you to trust grat­i­tude. Be grate­ful for the good things in your life…they are so numer­ous that they are easy to for­get. The tri­als in life are like a bad smell; they choke us and cause our eyes to water, and when they dis­si­pate, we are grate­ful for the sweet smell of fresh air. It takes mere moments for the fresh­ness to become background…we take it for granted. Take a moment. Breathe, and wit­ness the good­ness that sur­rounds you. I would tell you to trust com­pas­sion. Every­one around you is an indi­vid­ual with the same inner tri­als that you are expe­ri­enc­ing. Every day, you see and inter­act with great epics, ter­ri­ble tragedies, hor­ri­ble mon­sters and shin­ing pal­adins. Remem­ber that everyone’s road is a hard one. Use that com­mon­al­ity to under­stand the oth­ers in your life, especially those clos­est to you. I would tell you that you know no one, that you know noth­ing out­side of your­self. You may have been mar­ried fifty years, and you may know your spouse’s pat­terns, but you do not know their inner mind. You can­not know every­thing they will do. Do not con­fuse your own ver­sion of them for the real peo­ple. That way lies strife and pain. I would tell you to love your­self, to trea­sure your­self, to respect your­self, and to never sell your­self short. Dare greatly, but attend to the small things. With­out car­ing for the small things, the big things will never come to pass. I would tell you to prac­tice. What­ever it is you do, prac­tice. Choose a path and walk it. I would tell you that there is an inner quiet that only you can feel, an inner dark­ness that is kind, an inner song that only you can hear, an inner dance to which you know the steps. Embrace these things, with­out them, you are just another char­ac­ter in some­one else’s fic­tion. I would tell you these things. I would tell you these. I would tell you.