Am I Crazy?


"Just so you know," she said, "____ is going around and meeting with key people and saying that you're crazy."

Wow.

Why?

Who are key people?

Because I need to meet with key people to talk about important things like lifting community vibrancy and eliminating systemic inequity.

I did my best to remain curious, open, non-judgmental, and inviting possibility.

And yet as the echoes of the words settled, my emotions deepened - beginning with curiosity and laughter at the absurdity, to reflection, acceptance, and embrace of every human's unique crazy. For a moment I felt honored in a weird way, that I must be doing something notable for my name to be brought up to "key people". And finally my emotion rested in the knowing that some humans do intend to harm and hurt others with their words and intentions.

Holding that truth made me very, deeply, sad.

Because I wholly love and have wholly loved precious beloveds who have been hurt by labels and words like "crazy". I have lingered outside their doorway and witnessed the loneliness and isolation that comes with their illness. They are brilliant and genius in their craft and they are gentle, beautiful souls.

I could describe them with a million words and tell you all the ways I aspire to be more like them, and yet, on their hardest days, they are bound to their bed with invisible cables and labels like "crazy".

I've prayed for a miracle.

I've read books. Used oils. Crystals. Music.

I've wanted so badly to be a hero.

I've wanted so badly to take away their confusion, pain, and loneliness. I've wanted to shield them from humans and words that intend to harm and make them feel inferior and unworthy.

But I can't save them.

I can only witness.

Sit.

Listen.

Hold space.

Listen again.

And as I've witnessed and listened, I have become no longer afraid of certain things -

silence,

not knowing,

not being in control,

messy,

tears,

and I am certainly no longer afraid of labels that roll off the lips of those who have never had to touch the pain of mental illness.

My love.

You.

I am madly, crazy, deeply, truly, in love with you. You light up the room when you come in. You don't see it, but I do. The crystals you've collected - that's the kind of sparkly magic that grows inside you. The sun shines off it and creates dazzle dewdrops on the faces of people looking into your eyes.

You are beautiful. How is it that you so simply see the best in others? How is it you are so generous with your love?

You are strong. Deeply, in your bones. You get up. Even on the hard days, you do it. You get through it. You're here. That is amazing. That is the miracle and gift you give us. You are here.

I could go round and round making myself dizzy forever wondering about the accuracy and validity of the concern made to "key people" about me, and trying to protect you from humans who are less than kind - but I've decided that I'd rather be dizzy from love.

And dancing.

And looking up at the stars.

I'd rather use my arms to hug you close and I'd rather use my eyes to look into yours, than be on high alert protecting and watching for who might be cruel and harmful and hurtful.

Dear Love,

I found this piece written for an Apple campaign. It was written at a time when Apple's business was doing really, really bad - and this piece literally helped save the company. Steve Jobs hated it at first and called it crap. But the writer felt so passionate, he didn't give up. And he didn't give a shit about another person's (Steve Job's) opinion.

And I've decided -

Neither will I.

"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels. The troublemakers. The problem child. The round pegs in the square holes.
 The ones who see things differently.

 They're not fond of rules and they have no respect for the status quo.
 You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. 
About the only thing you cannot do is ignore them.
 Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal.
 They explore. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.

 Maybe they have to be crazy. 

How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art?
 Or sit in silence and hear a song that has never been written?
 Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?

 We make tools for these kinds of people. While some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. 
Because people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."

I love you.

xxx