I have a friend I rarely see but feel very close to, she is a deeply authentic and spiritual person, and has always supported me and my work and seemed to understand both in a way that is valuable to me.

She is a competent and strong, person, she wrote me a short but lovely note  today saying that “all of my life I thought I had the discipline and energy to take care of things; that’s not true now, and the gap is more visible than ever.”

She wrote me in response to my offer to help her, her husband of many years has been stricken with a serious illness, she is struggling to cope with caring for him. She said she couldn’t think of any help I could offer her, but I responded with a suggestion: that I be her writing coach and editor and she writes about her struggle suddenly to live in the gap between energy and discipline, trauma can often radically and suddenly expand that troubling space.

She said no one criticizes her for failing to meet her own sense of this overwhelming need but her, and this tells me she would benefit greatly from hearing of the experience of others and sharing hers. I can testify that this is a profound and transformative experience. I learn every day that everyone on the earth experiences this same feeling and many can see to the other side of it.

I have not heard back from her yet, I hope she considers the offer, I believe writing in challenging times is profoundly healing and also helpful, to the writer, to others. I learned this when I chose to write about my breakdown and subsequent depression around the time I began this blog. I was stunned by the help this writing seemed to give to so many people experiencing the same or worse. This experience taught me to be authentic, and to share my struggles as well as my triumphs.

People often tell me they do not have time to write in times of crisis and struggle, I always respond that they don’t have time not to.

It was hard for me to share my pain and great sense of failure, and is hard still, but is among the most important and healing things that I have done.

I remember walking along the beautiful path in the first Bedlam Farm and for six weeks my panic was so strong I took pills for six weeks to calm me down and keep my mind from spinning. I hated taking them and have not taken any since, but they did help me regain control of my perspective and my emotional meltdown.

On the path, I clearly heard a voice inside of my own head telling me, “Jon, You are not God, you cannot control the world or alter the nature of fate. Life will happen to  you, as it will happen to every living thing, you can only do the best you can in the short time you are here.”

I hope my friend writes about her struggle, I would be glad to help her if she needs it. Finding our voice is healing, when we share our deepest fears, they somehow become smaller and more comfortable to live with.