I took a group counselling course with an instructor who used to remind the class constantly how everything was “a metaphor for your whole life.”  That included the course itself. 

A few mornings ago, as I was struggling with my new “medical alert” bracelet for my diabetes (had to get one now that I’m on insulin), I couldn’t help but think how that was also “a metaphor for my whole life.”  Try as I might, I just couldn’t get that darn bracelet on by myself.  I finally relented and asked my husband to help me.  I soon saw the bracelet as a metaphor for my life with diabetes.  I try and try on my own, but I just can’t do it alone.  I struggle in vain until it is finally apparent even to me (did I mention that stubbornness thing?) that I must ask for help. 

I have slowly come to accept that needing and asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of courage.  That reaching out is a risk that reaps immeasurable rewards.  Distance may be safe but it is also empty.  And that while letting people in is scary, it is the only way to lead a life full of love.