Given to Fly
Posted on December 20, 2016
I used to be so disconnected from myself, my soul, my life. I would keep how I felt buried until it was bursting at the seams, begging to be freed.
I’d go through the day tight-lipped disallowing my pen to write the truth.
Only at night by candlelight would I let it flow knowing that I needed to take the edge off.
Sometimes it was a nicely phrased poem, other times an urgent plea as I didn’t know how long until I would be cut off: from myself, my soul and expressing my truth.
On February 3rd 1998 I wrote the excerpt below. I was only 19 years-old. When I found it in November of 2010 I was surprised and floored that some part of me knew of this chapter I was to live through and still am navigating today.
This is what I wrote:
“We want to sing, to write poetry or novels and climb mountains, but all our failures, un-lived dreams just feed these demons.
They scratch our eyes, they burn us with reality, the reality that I will always be unhappy no matter how wide I smile. That we lie to ourselves and those around us.
While inside we cry out for Love, for Affection, for Attention.
These demons scream at us when we want tranquility. They tickle us with the notion that just maybe today I’ll go through the day happy without feeling everything rip me to shreds. I’m fraying at the seams of what I used to be.
Then I hear the little girl wailing from the inside, so deep, so young. She’s scared. She wants kind words but my throat is dry and hers is sore. So I listen to her muffled sobs as I pick myself off the floor, because I can’t let people know that I have such battles, rippling under the surface. I’m in the limelight of an unknowing masquerade. I’m here in the present disconnecting my soul…
—Then I reflect on what I wrote, surprised by the dark—
Wow, I can’t believe I wrote that. Everything I’ve been taught has been about rainbows after the storm, but to me the rainbow is the storm and the storm the rainbow. The clashing lightning and thunder comfort me because that raw energy inside of me is too trying to form a rainbow. But to be a rainbow would be terrible because then things are too perfect…I get scared because that’s when I get hurt… I hear the whispers as they follow me. My own little storm cloud that shadows my happiness. The sun tries to peak through but I need the rain. It nourishes me…
—Then I end with this—-
I smile because one day the storm will pass and leave a rainbow coming forth from my mouth. I will shed light on the world and they will understand. I may be a broken winged dove now, but one day I will soar above and teach everyone what I am too scared to do myself now. To Love, to Forgive, to Understand…three things that are necessary, but I’m still too sore to fully accomplish. I still hate them for making the little girl sob…the demons prick me with their piercing tongues reminding me of everything that I am not, rather than caress me with everything I am. I need to look to the past, close it and get on with my future…but I’m tired…and the night is diminishing. “
Writing a novel is no longer and un-lived dream, because I have written one, Glow. It’s not perfect, published, nor do I know if any good, but I did it and I’m following the inner knowing down that path while writing the other, Anachel.
Our unlived dreams or creative aspirations don’t sit idly by.
If ignored for too long they fester and can rise up through physical ailments. Sometimes the path between walking the dream and dreaming the dream are blocked emotions. Energy needing to flux and flow to help fuel you along your way.
The only path through to the other side requires feeling them and letting them go.
We are all given to fly. We come equipped with the abilities to navigate the body, mind + spirit triad. To this I say: Follow my words and I’ll show you my wings. Fly with me and you’ll feel yours.