During meditation today, I was reminded of a time when I was in the 11th grade. I’d written a story that I now recognized as my beginning and end. In fact, the story was so good my teacher recognized it as award worthy. It was a dark and gruesome; yet, beautiful and poetic cry for help. In the story, I had described myself walking into a room where a murder had been committed. I recall a bed, with white sheets, covered in blood. The crime was one of passion and rage and witnessing the scene had caused me to go mute. I could only describe it through my written words. I never thought about this time before today because I didn’t think this memory was of significance. Ironically, when I thought about it more, I realized it’s the same story I’m writing today. Another cry for help.
When I decided to follow through with this blog, I understood I could not be successful without being fully transparent. I make it a point to hold myself accountable to it. I meditate to help keep myself aligned with my spirit. Everything I write about, comes from my most vulnerable place. The memory of this story being placed on my heart is significant. Then, I saw it as an easy A, I truly love to write. Now, I realize that murder scene was my way of expressing how I felt at the time. I had never witnessed a murder; the murder was my way of emphasizing the betrayal I felt from witnessing my Mother in such a compromising position. I was in pain and writing is my safe place. At that time, that story was my release.
Today, I understand what needs to be done. This blog is saving me. Not one day has passed, since I’ve launched, that I haven’t battled with intense fear and anxiety. I’ve had to create routines so that I don’t find myself drowning in both. If I’d have allowed either one to penetrated my body, I was unable to write a single word. My mind drew blanks and my fingers wouldn’t move. My body now requires a changed reaction from me. It is mandatory that I deal with these emotions in preparation for the next phase in my life. I walked in on a vulnerable situation for both my Mother and I. I was too young and naive to realize my Mother and Father were no longer a pair and her burdens weighed heavy on her. I’m sure most of us can relate to being a child and being told to stay in a child’s place.
I found so much healing in writing through this. I realize more each day all it takes is for me to embrace myself and allow my light to shine. Everything else will fall into place. I want the world to know me for who I am; these words are me. I titled this post, “Bricks Into Glass”. I no longer want to be physically seen; I want you to see me.