“Mom, you were the angriest,
bitterest person I knew”
My mouth fell open a little bit. Me?
Really? Seriously? Thinking damn, this boy has MET a lot of angry
people and I WAS at the top of that list.
Then the yummy num nums slipped in quickly and I realized how MUCH I
have changed. I recognized how HURT,
bitter, angry, I truly was. I use to SEETHE
on a constant basis. I didn’t understand
why the world seemed to be pitching fast balls at my face. Why wouldn’t SOMEONE see my pain? Was I invisible? FUCK!!!!
I EXPECTED everyone to fix the situation. I wanted my mom and dad to recognize what had
happened, I wanted my little sister to bitchslap the lot of them and say..UMMM
do you not see you are hurting her?? I
wanted my ex-husband to don the armor and slay the damn dragon. (PRESSURE much?) I wanted the love of my children to save me…
I grasped at love like a woman in quicksand, crushing the delicate petals in my
desperate attempt to breathe. I wore my
rage as a protective, outward spike studded mantle of protection against the world,
not realizing I was stabbing my loved ones with my palpable pain.
I wasn’t always that way, as a young girl I lived in the moors of my own
fantasy world which resplendent with the most brilliant, fragrant flowers was
my heart’s terrain. Fairies, pixies,
brownies and sprites were abundant and free, roaming this land of my
creation. Majestic, grandfatherly trees
dotted the landscape and were welcoming with their huge sturdy branches poised
to embrace my books and I. I of course
was the fairest in the land <smiles> and the animals were my best
friends. That’s where I lived once upon
a time. Then I lost my way, I found
myself in the brambles of my own despair, and I abandoned hope and closed my
heart.
During my years in the abyss, I kept reaching for the light, I did. I knew that although I was covered in slick, oily, dense darkness of despair, I was still a creature belonging to Source. I recognized that in my heart of hearts, I just didn’t have any idea how to go about reclaiming the brilliance with which I once viewed everything… but then…
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. (Anais Nin)
and blossom I did… as a matter of fact <just realized> that is what this
leg of my journey is called… “Blossoming” … Didn’t even have that in my mind as I sat down
to write how far I’ve come since that angry, bitter, hurt, woman I USED to be.
‘used to be’ was
such the gift in that statement...… yea.
Thank you RJ!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment