Page 66 - WTP Vol. IX #2

Thanksgiving Day (continued from preceding page) Brown, of TedTalk fame.
In the interview Brene tells a story — and I’m retell- ing it, so this is basically gossip and highly unreli- able, it may never have happened — about some speaker/shrink/guru asking their audience, which included her, “Do you think people are doing the best they can?” And Brene and all the other people the Questioner is addressing laugh and say nooooooo, of course not. People slack off and poop out and discon- nect and give up and phone it in and no, they do not do they best they can.
And the Questioner asks Brene, and everyone else, “Think of someone you know who is not doing the best they can.” And it’s easy; she can think of someone right away: a total disappointment, a waste of life.
“What if,” asks the Questioner, “a source beyond doubt, like God or some other ultimate authority, appeared to you and told you, ‘I promise that this person is absolutely doing the best they can.’” And Brene, and the rest of the audience, begins to cry.
Liam drives me safely home. I get out of the car and thank him and watch him drive away, and then I take out my keys and let myself in and go inside and col- lapse into my bed.
It might have been nice if my parent and his consort could express their views with a little more kind-
ness. It might be nice if Boudica could feel happy and accepted and joyful instead of suffering from chronic depression and wielding her javelin. It would be great if Liam could stop self-medicating himself through family, pain, and generalized anxiety. I’d love it if Aar- on could find a vulnerable space inside himself from which to extend some grace. It would be wonderful if I could summon the courage speak up, to meet life.
But you know what — I think we might all be doing the best we can. I think we’re all fighting our terrible, invisible, humiliating battles, within and between each other. I think each day we all sit down to ban- quets of forgiveness, provided at great cost, by and for one another. We are a Frankenfamily, but we’re doing the best we can.
I’m grateful for that.
Strumpolis is an artist, art instructor, and writer living and working
on Long Island, New York. She has an MFA in Fine Art and writes
as part of her artistic practice. When she’s not painting, providing an one-on-one art lesson, or scribbling small secret jottings in a series of notebooks, she’s imbibing an overpriced caffeinated beverage to keep her ADHD roaring ahead of the competition.
Two-Year Exposure (from “Sun Notations”)
archival pigment print on Canson Infinity Museum Rag 24'' x 38''
By Krista Leigh Steinke