I was driving somewhere I didn’t want to go. I was feeling grumbly about having to go there. I’d been down this road, this actual road, to this destination before. To no avail. To do anyone any good I needed to change my outlook.
I looked at my mileage and knew I had four miles to go until I reached my destination.
In a short period of time I needed to change my attitude.
I didn’t know what else to do so I said out loud “please just let me be able to help”. It instantly worked. There was nothing magical about it, saying it. Yet, there’s something magical about hope. And possibility. And the idea of just maybe. Just uttering those words reminded me of the possibility.
I know that I get frustrated, not because I am asked to help, but because I know how powerless I am to make a change for someone else without their consent. I reminded myself that it’s not my choice. It’s someone else’s. All I can do is offer.
When I uttered those words I felt a bit of relief. Just a little bit like a pressure valve being let open.
Those four miles went by too quickly. Or maybe just quick enough. Because I was still feeling hopeful when I got there.
Truthfully, I wasn’t able to help. I wanted to. But my offer and my presence were not welcomed.
I didn’t do anyone else any good today. But I did myself a little bit of good. It’s difficult being in a position where you are called on to make a difference, and you can’t. You end up feeling like you let part of the world down.
You feel let down yourself.
Then, you get another call, on another day. You get in the car and drive towards that destination. Sometimes feeling grumbly. Sometimes feeling like you’re wearing a super power cape and you’re on your way to save the world. Or someone’s world. Sometimes you’re a little worried, skeptical, maybe even fearful.
And you say “please just let me be able to help”. And you’re transported to the reason you do what you do. You feel that moment of hope. That moment of possibility.
That moment of just maybe.