(c) J. Porter 2012 et al
We are All each other
Too hard to handle
So we walk away
Some we Bless as we Turn
Some we curse as we Turn
Some we mourn as we Turn
What if we did a Soul Retrieval
For the World?
Dive into the undercut
where you can’t see the bottom
don’t be afraid
come out on the other side
the cave full of treasure you left behind
the myriad lights
and bountiful harvests
you hid it there
and covered it in
pain and shame and fear
clear off the mud
wash it clean in pure water
wipe away the sludge
that which Shines is hidden there
resurrect that which can only be found
if there is courage to wade through the mud
through the dark
through the uncertain
bless the mud and the sludge for keeping it safe
and release that which no longer serves
and keep that which has been forgotten
Hidden in the Shadows
6 July 2011 © J Porter
Something got shattered
so that something could blossom
A reliance on the Known
Blown out of the water
On waves of remorse
Stunned, I mourn
if I am just aging more rapidly
than I knew
In the silence of breath
I hear no answers
This stillness is new
28 March 2012 © J Porter
I once saw a giant magnolia tree
From my 4th-floor office window
Its blossoms the size of dinner plates
My blinders are off
Shadow and Bright inter-mingling
Difficult to live this co-existence
But I asked for the Truth
Something in me
Says I can handle it
And I am grateful
For magnolia blossoms
And Friends who remind me
I am not Alone
06/07/2010 © J Porter
Hard to believe Walking Through Water has been on my mind for over a year and yet I have added nothing to this blog. It has been a tumultuous year. I am now living in a new state, and yet that is only part of the Changes.
I am being Told to write. I am not sure how to anymore, but I am going to try. I am not sure I have a choice anymore. So… this is my first attempt at re-entering the world of words. I hope the next post is more interesting; my creativity definitely needs a kick-start.
Blessings to all of us struggling to reach past our creative road-blocks.
I wrote this a long time ago. I kept it private for four years, in part because I forgot it was there, and in part because I wasn’t ready to make it public. I am now.
It is hard for me to read this, but not as hard as it used to be. We all struggle with such deep, deep pain, even those of us virtually screaming at each other that everything is all right. It’s all ok! I’m fine.
Well, I wasn’t fine. And it’s taken me this long to truly start to Trust. In myself, in All-That-Is (the closest I can come to naming the unnameable.) And it took many shatterings and re-constructions between when I wrote this and now.
I offer it up now in hopes that if you read it and it resonates, that you too will not feel so alone anymore. Someone has been through this, or something very close to what you have experienced, and made it out the other side.
Many Blessings to you. I wish you well, and hold out my virtual hand with this post, in case you need one.
My mom would let me cry in my playpen for hours, soiled and lonely and abandoned. This I had recently remembered. But today I realized that right before my sisters came home from school, she would pick me up, clean me, feed me – properly – and make it look like all was well. I, of course, was so relieved to be held and cared for finally that it LOOKED like all was well. And I learned to be such a good girl, so good, so accommodating, so that I wouldn’t be left alone in that playpen again.
It explains so much. The claustrophobia, the excessive desire to please, the constant sense of failure, of nothing I did being enough, of feeling like if I was just good enough, smart enough, talented enough someone might actually love me. But nothing worked, and I would resent the attempts and the lack of acknowledgement at the same time, even when I couldn’t seem to stop trying to please everyone. To be and do whatever they wanted. So busy, always watching to see how I could make life better for somebody else so they wouldn’t abandon me. Using all my talents – and there are many – for everybody else. It breaks my heart to contemplate this. I grew up thinking love, salvation, companionship, everything could only come to me after sacrifice, pain, loss, heartache, hunger… and just…in…the…nick…of…time. Oh, help would come, but not until I was at the very end of the rope, not until despair was so great, loss so huge, anger and pain so prevalent that … I got used to that being the way it was. I thought, at a very young age, that this was the way it was supposed to be. No wonder I feel abandoned so easily, no wonder I’ve struggled all my life. No wonder as soon as I was able to I tried to meet my own needs. I learned early I couldn’t rely on anybody else. And yet I wanted to. I wanted to trust and I so longed, so yearned for someone, anyone to take care of me, even if just for a little while. And yet I still couldn’t trust it, or anyone else. Oh, it’s so painful to remember, so hard to consider what I went through. Nothing I did or could do made a difference. I sat there in despair, crying to a Universe – represented by my mother – that did not respond.
So, what does this mean for me, now? How can I use this information to help me to grow and to stop trying to punish myself for never being good enough to receive sustenance in all it’s forms? Some part of me knows that it’s been the biggest lie of my life. But I don’t know how to stop believing the lie. Finding the source of my pain, to understand where it started – in this life at least – does help. But I don’t know what to do with this information exactly.
I do know that the Universe has been trying to tell me that I am loved and cared for. I have received so many gifts in my life, and I’ve received small miracles even today to remind me. Rain that held off until the bus came, a train driver waiting for me and opening the doors up so I could get on, salt for my hard-boiled eggs where there wasn’t any before. I know my inner loving adult is not fully in charge right now. The parts of me that need to feel this pain and don’t trust ANY authority figures are not quite willing to trust her to be in charge yet though. My longing for Connection has been identified, it’s source not fully explored. I think there are other dark places, shadowy corners that I must look into, especially for specific areas of my life, but I don’t know how to make this better for myself. I don’t know what to do. But at least I have a direction of some sort now. I just wish I had someone to hold my hand while I try.