{*Did you know you can write on Elephant? Here’s how—big changes: How to Write & Make Money or at least Be of Benefit on Elephant. ~ Waylon}

Lately, I’ve been crying. Every night.

Some mornings, too.

The tears well up out of my eyes out of freakin’ nowhere. There I am, minding my own business, and bam! I’m reaching for the Kleenex.

I was making my bed this morning and was bemused as I shook out used tissues from the sheets around my pillows. They drifted to the floor in slow motion, and I watched them fall, pondering this newfound thing in my life.

Tears. Daily.

I mean, sure, life is a circus. And that phrase, “Not my circus, not my monkeys.” doesn’t even come close to applying because sadly, it is my circus and they are my monkeys.

I’m a wee bit on the overwhelmed side, if I’m being honest. Health issues for myself and others are at the forefront of my daily life. Changes are happening faster than I can keep track of them. I’m the juggler in that aforementioned circus and I’m scared to death that I’m going to drop one of the important balls. The small, little ones? Those we can drop and pick up again. But the big ones? Like the flaming batons? Those aren’t so easy to drop and pick up like nothing happened.

I have lists to remember my lists. My work space is covered in papers of all kinds, not because I haven’t filed them but because if they’re out of my sight I’m pretty sure I’ll forget about them—even if I put them on a list.

Maybe it’s no surprise that I’m crying. I’m shedding tears and it’s cathartic AF. But it’s not because I haven’t filed the paperwork I’m surrounded by, and it’s not because I dropped a flaming baton (yet).

I’m crying because internet strangers are giving me hope again.

After so, so many years of doom and gloom, I’ve found a home for wholesome human connection and it’s bringing on the waterworks.

Every night I’m checking in on my new Threads community and the stories I’m finding there are touching my heart giving me all.the.feels.

Whether it’s the dad who told the story about his son wanting to go to work with him and getting up early, putting on his boots and toolbelt and being upset that he couldn’t join him at the construction site, or the mom who went on a rant about school clothing policies and how they were unfair toward girls, telling her daughter to wear what she felt comfortable in and she’d deal with the school officials, or the parent talking about their child being reported for “pushing” someone on the playground only to find out from their teacher that everyday they push their friend on the swings and they both giggle with mirth…these stories are real life.

These stories are human.

These stories are giving me life at a time in my life when I need to be reminded not to be cynical.

People are sharing their stories about how impressed they are with Generation Alpha and their healthy attitudes toward self-esteem and self-confidence. I’ve read stories about teenagers helping their boyfriends with ADHD by using a TikTok video from their dad and how choked up he was that she watched his content. I’ve seen people share their haikus!

They are simply talking.

I started using Threads for the political content and the news, and yes, I still do. But I found so much more. I found a real community that represents the people simply seeking connection in this big, wide, wonderful world that is hurting, and there’s beauty in these 500 character messages.

Thank you, internet strangers, for your moments of beauty while I’m resting from the never-ending juggling of my life.

The sharing of our stories in this community forum has become a slowing-down ritual for me, and a much-needed one.

~