In sharing a recent creative writing piece the other day, I have been thinking about earlier scribblings of thought. This journey that I’ve been on hasn’t just been physical, and I think that becomes quite evident when I look back at my private writings…because, in all honesty, I simply do not share all my deep, dark thoughts with the internet! I might be more open now, but the dark ages weren’t called dark without reason. So, I had some time on my hands this afternoon and went digging through notebooks, looking for a particular piece of writing. While I didn’t manage to find the one I was looking for, I did find a few pieces which stood out as being intimately connected to my journey, and so I am sharing two of those pieces today.
Monday, April 5, 2010
You asked me how I was doing and I hesitated, considered my options. Should I offer up the benign and expected reply of general well-being? How much honesty could you handle? Should I let down the drawbridge and raise the portcullis, let you enter the fortress where all my skeletons and dusty secrets are hidden? In a heartbeat, I considered all this and more. Please do not think badly of me for ultimately going with the easiest answer, the safe response. I am well.
If you could have heard my thoughts you would have realized how desperately I wanted to go deep with you. You would have known my fear of being hurt again, of rejection. I am afraid of so many things. There are unreasonable fears that flit across my mind like scenes in a movie. Terror rises and falls quickly with little real weight or power to throw me off my stride. While driving down the street, I might observe children walking nearby and instantly have a vision of some unspeakable accident. I can nip those thoughts in the bud easily enough. I feel a measure of panic when I walk into a meeting, a party, a room and cannot find a familiar face to chat with. Such social situations intimidate me and probably always will.
Mostly I am afraid of being exposed, laid bare, vulnerable. You may not see the irony in that, but I do. In this season of my life, I desperately wish to be known, intimately and honestly, and yet, I skitter about like a high-strung pony whenever I am put into a ‘get to know me’ situation.
Would you understand what I’ve gone through, been put through that makes me react this way? I want to trust that you could be such a person, one who is compassionate and patient, persistent and concerned. I suppose the only way to truly know is to put trust into action. Words have always been easier for me to write than to speak. Read my heart and do with it what you will.
January 5, 2011
writing prompt: This is where I want to go.
I set forth on a journey, and this is where I want to go. But how can I get there when no sign marks the destination? Where I am headed cannot be found on any map. GPS won’t help me. I don’t even know how many kilometres I must travel or if the trip will take me beyond my borders into unfamiliar terrain. Nervous but excited is how I feel, and just a teensy bit afraid. For all my inner bravado, I am reluctant to jump into the unknown. Failure taunts me. Success beckons me. I must listen to the voices that speak wisdom into my life, the ones that seek to see me grow rather than stumble. I am looking for the new me. The real me. The me who has been long-lost, hidden in darkness, locked away in fear and shame for most of my life. Too long have I cowered before my enemies. Did I not realize that the only power they ever had was what I handed over? It’s funny how one can live so much of life without ever feeling comfortable in one’s own skin. This is my story but with a brighter future. This journey of re-discovery is exciting and I find myself growing stronger, leaner, and maybe even smarter. This is where I want to go! After 39 years, I want to know unequivocally who I am. I want my inner bravado to shine through, illuminating all around me. I am strong! I am wonderfully created with a purpose. I do not want to be a passenger on the road of life. I am a driver, a runner, a walker…I’d even crawl, if necessary, just so long as I am moving towards my destination. Where that is exactly is difficult to say, because I think my destination is uniquely mine. Only I can get there, and only I will recognize it when I do! Isn’t that exciting? Life is an adventure meant to be experienced. This is where I want to go.