My mind goes places, retreats back to ways I became accustomed too. I start to convince myself- of the very worst. My mind has an aching, and I’m trying to make it better. Frequently these days I feel the need for a change of scenery and my sister who knows me so very well thinks a change would be good not just for my soul but for the nature of my artwork. I could see what she means. There must be a forecast that I won’t let myself see, but I could see what Regina Spektor meant when she sang that the Sea is just a weather reflection of the sky. It’s just sometimes, it’s like I’m dreaming with a broken heart - how does that John Mayer song go- waking up is the hardest part? The hardest part about moving on from a bad situation, is letting go of what broke you to begin with, so you keep pushing away anything that seems too good to be true, you question it, you say to yourself, “Not this time. No way; I won’t be the fool again.” And everything beautiful, everything your wildest dreams could have ever yearned for, hoped for, wished upon the brightest star for becomes too good to be true, out of reach. Blocked out by memories of letdowns, and disappointments. You stare longer in the mirror now, picking apart what was true and what was fake; are you really ugly? Are you really worthless? Are you too skinny? Have you gotten too fat? Too sick? Not enough? Did they mean it when they said you were stupid, or a dumb bitch? Are you a slut? Easy? Did you really want it? Did they mean it when they said you didn’t deserve better, or treated you like you didn’t deserve anything better? Are you really poor, or are you really all alone in this greatly over populated world? Were the bruises worth it? Were the fractures necessary? Would the world really be better off, without you… without me? Or were all those hurtful defeats, scarring words and acquisitions… were they just all lies too? Of course they were..
I’ve been called names, I’ve been called them all, and they all hurt- and saturated into my mind; But all it takes is one look, the sincerity in his eyes to make me feel like the sun and the moon were made for me, to restore all the broken pieces about me into a whole that he says is beautiful, and for a moment I believe it- just for that moment, till I’m back looking into that mirror, looking at a reflection I’m unsure of- wondering how anyone could ever Love the broken parts of me. That’s the problem with moving on, with forgiving and forgetting. You start to wonder will you ever really forget? Do you start to build a foundation around your heart with steel bars, and obstacle courses to keep anyone from getting too close? But who are we locking out when we do this chaotic shielding from the world? Someone once told me that talking things out is Human Nature's remedy, we have been given the gift to speak up, to vocalize our emotions. A dog, animal’s- cannot say when they are hurting, an animal cannot tell you when there’s pain inside, what kind of trauma it felt with a previous owner or having to survive out in the wild. We only see and know what hurts them by the way they react- to our touch, the tones in our voices. If you’re lucky enough, you’d earn their trust- and something so simple like affection isn’t far fetched. We don’t pay attention to Human Nature though, we regard people’s action and reactions to just who they are, never considering what they felt or what circumstances caused them to act out the way they had.
Kindness and Understanding is a dying breed; be the first to practice it when faced with a difficult being. Whether you are the one who causes them pain, or they are causing you pain, act with kindness and understand that the battle wounds stems deep into the soul of someone’s innate being, invisible to the naked eye. #NOTETOSELF “If you have been brutally broken, but still have the courage to be gentle to others then you deserve a love deeper than the ocean itself.” We all deserve a love, deeper than the ocean itself.
Till next time. Namaste.
“It's amazing that a man who is dead can talk to people through these pages. As long as this book survives, his ideas live.” ― Christopher Paolini, Eragon