Asking for help

It's hard to ask for help.

When I was writing my thesis, I struggled alone for months -- maybe even a year or more -- afraid to ask for help.  I didn't think anyone could help me.  I didn't want to burden anyone with my problems.  I was afraid of what people would think of me if I came to them with such a terrible piece of work.  I was afraid they would think I was incompetent. 

Fortunately, with help from friends and family (who came to help me before I was able to ask), I learned to ask for help.  This was one of the biggest lessons I took from graduate school.   It was instrumental to me finally being able to finish and graduate.

Now, while I'm taking time off and I'm not working or studying, I get to see asking for help from another perspective.

Without work or school, it's easy to feel lost, to feel out of place, to not have a place to belong.  I think the main reason I've been spared much of that is that people ask me for help.

It's little things, like picking up groceries, editing an essay, helping my neighbour bake muffins, or taking my friend's child to the doctor.  It takes just a few minutes here, maybe a couple of hours there.  None of the tasks are difficult or extraordinary, but the pleasure and satisfaction I get from first being asked and then being able to do something are tremendous.   I'm honoured.  I feel like I belong somewhere.  I feel like I matter and that I make a difference -- however small it may be.

It's like those puzzle pieces.  When we struggle alone, we're like separate pieces lying scattered on the table.  When we ask and give help, we're putting pieces together.  We're giving each other a place to fit.