At times my vision is shallow and short-sighted as I see my loved-one cope with the challenges we label mental illness.

At times through shallow eyes I see a future stunted, my loved-one's possibilities not fully realized. 

   But then I look deeper.

   There I see unnecessary expectations created by me, held by me, and fully releasable by me.    

   There I see good in today's actualities, somewhat hidden perhaps, but free of the prejudgment of my favored possibilities. 

 

At times through shallow eyes I see pain unrelenting in the chaos of the unexpected and unwanted.

   But then I look deeper.

   There I see and coalesce my strength, knowing my loved-one manages pain and difficulties much more acute than my own.  

   There I see comfort in controlling what I can control, influencing what I can influence. Knowing that can be enough.

   There I see a stream of moments: each an opportunity to find contentment in loving,         

       Even if those be the odd loves of allowing the one I cherish to painfully fall,       

       Or keeping myself at a painful distance from the one I long to hold near.

 

At times through shallow eyes I see guilt deserved for the mistakes I made that may have contributed to my loved-one's pain.

   But then I look deeper.

   There I see the natural messiness of life, where mistakes will invariably be made.

   There I see my ability to forgive myself for nothing more than garden-variety human frailty.

   There I see my resolve to do the best I know how to do now, regardless of what has happened in the past.

 

At times through shallow eyes I see my loved-one as irreparably broken. 

   But then I look deeper.

   There I see my loved-one whole and intact, worthy and good, sharing in my desire for wellness.

   There I see a hope in a therapy not yet tried, in a kind word not yet spoken, in an hour not yet arrived.    

   There I see a beauty, not broken, not diminished, not missing, but shrouded in a scrim of pain.

 

We can work together to pierce this scrim if and only if we recognize the stunning value of what lies beneath it.

 

I choose to look deeper.

I choose to help my loved-one and others similarly struggling.

I choose to help, not to compensate for their weakness, but to supplement their strengths. 

I choose to help, not to bend them to my ideas of recovery, but to liberate them to express the profound goodness they are. 

I choose to help, not because I must, but because I can.

 

I choose to look deeper because I choose to recognize the human treasure trove at stake. 

 

I ask, “What do you choose?”

 

             --- Craig Wagner