We should be nurturers.
We’re supposed to be a community. We’re supposed to listen,
to talk with others.
To ask,
“How was your day?”
But when they say,
“I’m fine,”
we’re supposed to keep talking.
You look into their eyes
when they smile
or they laugh,
through those little window panes.
But sometimes-
sometimes they’re not so see-through. Like an interrogation window
they see into yours,
but all you see is your own reflection
looking back at you.
Or perhaps not.
Perhaps the window pane
is nothing but a wall.
Two walls-
with smiling faces cemented on.
Two houses, with their blinds shut tight.
You call them neighbors and friends,
but you just stare at their painted walls
and closed curtains.
A neighborhood is a community.
A place where people live side by side,
people of all different cultures.
They come together,
they open their doors,
and let the light shine through
their window panes.
But this is no neighborhood.
It’s a complex of individual houses,
all set up side by side;
in rows and columns.
Close in proximity, maybe,
but nothing more,
nothing more.
This was written a little less than a year ago after a 14 year old boy from my church committed suicide. I had never met him, but I was angry with the world and with myself for having missed this boy’s struggles. I know it was not my fault, nor was anyone to blame, but in the moment I was just angry.
Since we are on the topic of suicide and mental health awareness, don’t be afraid to use the resources available to you if you or a loved one are at risk. Here are some useful resources:
Spaceship Thoughts 