Fight for Joy; Inclusion isn’t just for the classroom

Getting caught up in the relentless waves of circumstances can carry you away like a rip tide. It will not relent day in and day out with tasks, chores and never ending responsibilities. The very things that once touched your heart with wonder and love can become the task master of monotony.

Joy, wonder, love, adventure, imagination are not going to simply happen as much as the daily tasks. They may not vie for your attention like tasks but as important as every breath you take and every blood pumping heart beat that propels you into the next moment, you have to fight for the joy that makes it all worth while.

I heard recently about the pastor in California who committed suicide. I still haven’t wrapped my mind around the loss of Robin Williams, Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain.

“Just don’t be sad.” is like pouring hot oil down my throat, coating the lungs, stopping one from adequately breathing. I have seasons when I desire so much to feel that level of chill, happy, relaxed attitude that people with a relaxed Deep Limbic System have. I don’t. Sometimes I have depression. It suffocates and to top it off, anxiety that others will find me a fraud keeps me in a low key frenetic vigilance. I realize “impostor syndrome” is a thing. I know I have value. I am super smart, kind and extremely adept at social situations. I genuinely like math. I’m not so good at it but I like it. Usually, I am really happy. I love wonder, adventure, good books, friends, singing, art etc. On the flip side, I have seasons when depression and anxiety are constant companions darkening the doorway between me and the rest of the world. If I’m rested and in a relatively good place, I can handle it. I know they are there but I recognize lies. When I am tired, I am overwhelmed with tasks and circumstances and it is sometimes harder to function.

It doesn’t take being suicidal to understand it. I am not, nor have I ever been suicidal. I do however have empathy, a masters and a career centered around understanding and supporting people. Anyone in a burning building would naturally want to get out. A brain on fire can feel the same way. I cannot now nor will I, probably, ever understand what it feels like for someone in that place. What I do know is love and healing and inclusion.

Inclusion in a classroom is an in class accommodations for students with special needs. They learn right along everyone else. I am learning to make my life inclusive. My friendships, family, home, life is inclusive. I remember a friend that was in a headspace that made it difficult to go get her husband a gift for his Birthday. I took her to the store and helped her pick it out. Sometimes even the most simple tasks can seem like Kilimanjaro. Sometimes all it is takes a friend to walk alongside. Grocery shopping, organizing the junk room, cooking some meals, listening.

Sometimes all it takes is patient listening. It means waiting openly with patience, compassion and love while a friend talks, not seeking advise, no “You should” or “You need”. Just listen. I’ve listened to a friend start a conversation stubbornly intent not to share their burden but when they felt safe and loved, well, it all came out in one long healing waterfall of words and tangled emotions.

We all know someone who lives with depression or anxiety whether it is their norm or a season. Start the conversation. Ask how they are doing. Don’t give up with “fine.” Keep asking. Keep telling them they matter; affirm them. Be inclusive. Ask how you can help. Don’t give up. Be kind. Be open. Learn for yourself how to be an inclusive friend.

Inclusion isn’t just for the classroom. Live a life of inclusion.