"Only when we begin to let go of these, can we once again feel the coolness of a spring breeze, the heat of the sun,
the beauty of ourselves..."
Caressing the pain, cuddling it as a child.
Self pity dripping from it.
The pain I have held for all time, allowing it to drive me, at times in the right direction, more often driving me inside myself...to isolation.
Hiding from the others, burying myself in the pain and despair to protect me from their words, their actions.
And yet...it is in my own mind that I am made to feel shame, despair, humiliation. I dwell within the realm of pain, of despair, of isolation, because it is easy.
It came so slowly, that...I did not know it had arrived, until it was too late...or was it?
The self pity and self doubt entwined itself in my soul like a weed, threatening to close off the sunshine.
An attempt to strangle the beauty of the flower that resides here.
And I almost let it.
No more...will I live with the pain I have inflicted upon myself, the deep emotional wounds of perceived wrongs.
Awakening to my own devastation.
To the stranglehold of pain.
I begin to cut the vines that threaten my soul.
Terrified they are the only binds holding it together, yet more afraid of the approaching death.
Slowly untangling the vines of constraint....opening to others...so I may open to myself.
Or is it the opposite?
Perhaps it is one within the other.
But opening I am...
Slowly, self assured, allowing the selfhate, the pity, the self doubt to flow slowly into the river of life leaving it behind, for it is a thing of my past.
It shall remain in the past.
The past is its home, its comfort.
My comfort now comes in the freedom to feel.
The freedom to explore outside of myself.
The soothing comfort of filling my soul with happiness, never allowing it to empty.
The pain and selfhate spill forth, making way for self love, self discipline....and more importantly allowing me to truly explore life.
Explore life as the beautiful, growing, thriving adult, rather than the hurt, abandoned child of yesterday.
Life is always a struggle....it is filled with its pains, its hurts, its fear.
Only when we begin to let go of these, can we once again feel the coolness of a spring breeze, the heat of the sun, the beauty of ourselves.
This writing is dedicated to all those who have helped to show me that I do not have to accept the pain, the isolation bestowed on me as a child.
It is dedicated to those who have looked beyond the flaws of humanity, to reach the inside...and have worked to help it open.
To those who have loved me through thick and thin, even when I could not love myself....Thank you seems so little....and yet it is all I have to offer, besides my undying gratitude.
© 1998 indigo
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