I want to radiate Light in a worn-out world. I want to face others with joy and eagerness. Glad to share life with one another. Life feels less weighty and onerous, when we are vulnerable with One Another. We all need community. I long for it,
then I open my mouth.
I always seem to be
lacking. For I did not learn to trust
Friendship by its nature is reciprocal. But all I can focus on, in my weakest and worst moments, is what I don’t have to give, what I am not receiving, how alone I often feel, so alone. Irrelevant to anyone that I imagine to be my friend. The world of relationships is moving around and beyond me. Somehow I am not invited in, shielding myself by saying I’m not a joiner but really likely ignored or forgotten.
On the other hand I am caught
inside myself. It‘s the dilemma of feeling unHuman.
Parenting too is not for the meek, but for people with wisdom and strength collected by watching a mother and father long ago. My parents had many good qualities. But they could also be insular and ingrown. It was from them that I learned to be suspicious and untrusting. The Generous Spirit my Father had for Others often failed to come home. I learned to go inward from his regular correctives and criticism. The love my Mother shared, she didn’t receive unconditionally in childhood or in their marriage. This made it hard for her to pass love on. (She’s different since he died.)
I fear for myself. Together is not something I do well. Community is for Others so unlike me. And so I withdraw even further.
Away from the Light I might
find, the Light I might hold within, the Light I might share with others.
These days I am unlearning Who I Am. Almost every day I work to be more Human; to forget the broken promises and to forgive. Letting go of the anger and resentments that are carving grooves in my soul. Forego the automatic ungracious way I learned to speak to those I love.
I have worked hard to stop being me, the Me I Hate.
We are named Beloved but I can barely accept it. I need to know Grace, but I’m worn down, the trenches within are real, torrents rushing through pulling away at
the Me I Could Become.
I try so hard to Become, to Be someone you want to be with, worth breaking bread together.
But I am still here. Shaky with sadness, knowing I may never find my way. I’m only forty-seven but I feel a hundred year’s weary. Intellectually I believe in transformation. But in the daily, all I can muster is longing for One Another and I am left with my hollow heart and howling grief.
How do we learn to be Light when our hearts are shadowy, rigid and so very heavy? When we believe we have nothing to offer. All the years of trying and not measuring up, now turning us
up into what kind of person? How do we convey our acceptance and satisfaction to our children when our hearts echo a hollow sounding love?—when “unconditional” was always tethered to conditions?
I want to believe, oh help my unbelief.
I try very hard—to be a Good Mother, a Good Daughter, Sister, Partner and Friend. Every day I am failing, for even when I am told I am loved I don’t believe.The one doing the speaking is never enough to fill the hole inside.
I need healing. I need to set down pride and fear and discontent, take off Never Good Enough and take on my true name—Beloved Daughter.
Then will I feel whole?
I meet so many people who I can see are hurting; opening up just enough for me to see Myself inside their soul. The Me I don’t want to be.
I see you. I know you. I recognize what’s inside. I ache for you.
Let us become Light for One Another. Even though I don’t know how and some days I don’t believe. I have to believe that this Heavy Awareness of myself holds a greater purpose, in the intuitions that lay bare the souls of those around me and make me want to take their pain on myself.
And Perhaps that is an answer. As I take my eyes off my own wrecked heart and look deeply into yours, I will feel your pain more than my own.
May I be a person who can take others pain. May I be A Beloved Daughter who cries with you, your tears collected in a basin that I will hold,
a chamber that is perhaps duck taped together. I’ll hold it close to my heart.
May I forget myself in that Holy Moment and become finally
not whole, but holy.