The Helpless Zone

I can be a lot of things. I’m frequently grateful. Often thankful. Sometimes controversial. Occasionally prideful and always humble. I’m accomplished at all of them and have mastered the often smooth transition from one to another. They are my comfort zones.

One thing that takes me right out of that zone is being helpless.

I’m a doer. A fixer. I have proven myself to be surprisingly unafraid in situations some would run from, including pulling a woman from a burning car. When I was working I was the guy who would send someone away saying “come to me with a solution, not a problem”. And I backed it up. I found a way. The “Superman” nickname is not new, while not always bestowed in a complimentary vein and was probably destined to be my blog theme. It all stems from a natural tendency to get involved. My favorite saying is “nobody can do everything, but everybody can do something.”

Except fix the unfixable.

Sometimes there is just nothing we can do. Hence the offers of “thoughts and prayers” after a senseless tragedy and “if there’s anything I can do” at wakes and funerals. We say these things because it’s really all we can do. Unless we possess the powers of God himself our powers end there.

I struggle greatly with this. I want to do something. Anything. It is simply beyond me to sit idly by. Even when there really is nothing. There is no greater example of this than the events of this week where I have been forced to sit idly by as someone I care deeply for suffers. She is undergoing a process deemed medically necessary and it is wreaking havoc on her and I can’t do anything except awkwardly ask “are you ok?” I hate it. It’s not even close to being about me but I would take it from her in a second to ease her pain.

The whole Superman thing lends itself to an obvious question. What’s your Superpower? I really don’t have one. But I would give everything I have present and future if I could be granted the gift of healing. To eradicate the scourge of “bad things happen to good people.” I’m not ok with it, the senselessness and attributing of “fate” and “providence.”

I might have to walk the beach. In addition to the sand therapy maybe I’ll trip over that magic lamp and meet my Genie. I would ask it to take me away from the “Helpless Zone”.