The Tender Spots

Sometimes it is simply hard to know what to do with the tender spots. You know, those places that are not ours to resolve, yet by the way of being human we still are entangled in their existence? All those human places of sadness, depression, pain, the emotional warehouses of our hearts, that are not quite up to what we want them to be?

They are two different levels of sad, aren’t they? One’s personal stories that ramble through our minds and hearts, mostly upspoken because to share them seems an astronomical task, we can barely put words to them our selves. Then there are the helpless ones, the ones that are not ours personally, but as an effect of our love and caring of another human or even of the world, causes us to loose sleep, lie awake through the night with thoughts of what can we possibly do to help?

We all have them, these tender spots. Everyone. When we are in the midst of them, we can feel like this is the furthest from the truth, that no one else has ever felt this way, or no one else can possible know, or how could anyone else even want to listen to this? Something about the human ego likes to quarantine us off from the rest of the world in dire self importance during these moments, as an island of unique individualism, when the entire time, we are simply being human.

“Humaning” should be a verb. Use in a sentence, “No, I cannot come out and play today because I am humaning. And we feel, instantly, our hearts open for another, for we know, in that mono second of a vulnerability, what they mean; we get it. BEACAUSE, not one person alive has not felt a sense of some level of desperation.

Social media, like all of life, has its blessings and lack of. But, when I awake, as I did this morning, to photos of an old acquaintance whose husband died the week she became pregnant, with their son, and he is now entering college this week and the pride and love of them in the photo is radiant with joy I am tenderly reminded; we not only human, we rebound, we get through, we change, we grow, we heal, we love.

No need to human alone. Reach out to a friend, family member, mental health professional, clergy, or even a depression hotline number. Social media can only take us so far, another human can takes us further.

It is vital that we keep reminding ourselves through personal, community or world wide tender spots; that change happens. That we spend our lives “humaning”, and being here for one another is key. We don’t have to know the answer or even have suggestions of what to do or how to go about making anything better – but just being there – either in person, via social media, phone calls, letters, emails; just be present for one another in anyway that is possible. Toss out lifelines.

Due to this pandemic, many have learned the value of our selves as humans. The value of a hello, or a smile in store, or a birthday greeting via Face Book. The value of any recognition of our connection as humans, as souls, as people. It feels to me that we are desperately hungry for this. You remember spontaneity? That thing we do when we don’t have to worry or wonder or ask if something is safe? Social media has given us a place for spontaneity – not always used wisely, but just the same, a place for it.

So today, do not sit alone with your tender spot, share it somehow, find an open heart, and speak. Sharing always lightens the load.

with great love,


The relapse and overdose rate has increased by 30% since March 2020. Mental health issues related to our lock down and the pandemic are especially hard for people with depression. NAMI, The National Alliance on Mental Health has a 24-hour helpline: 800-950-6264.

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