Sunflowers turn their glorious gaze upon their lover… the sun. They raise their faces, and crane their sturdy green necks ever closer, and as near as possible in an attempt to soak up the essence of light, and they can’t get enough…
They are insatiable, and even though the weight of their heads makes them bough lower in due time, they are proud, and full of golden yellow ness, that mirrors almost, the brilliance of the glow of marvelous sunlight.
There is a present need to grow, and to flourish in any given situation it would seem, and this particular place, right now.. is no different.
The unbearable weight of it all can seem as heavy as a bag of bricks upon our backs, and even though we think we wish to set down our cumbersome load.. it is harder to let the load slide from our being as a dump truck emptying it’s load on the earth, than we care to admit. It’s become an acceptance of the uncomfortable.
For some reason, we have become so accustomed to the heavy, earthbound stack, that it has become strangely comforting, and for inexplicable reasons..we find an eerie satisfaction in being able to hide beneath the bricks, and the cracking mortar.
It becomes our armor, even though it was never meant to be, because the chains are heavy… way too cumbersome to carry. It is the wall that we feel we must hide behind so that we don’t “ bother” others with our struggles.
The pretty yellow flowers can keep out the rest of the world, behind an anxiety ridden false smile, and with a barricade of cheerful blooms, but we stay contained within our shacks of depression, and sorrow, and darkness. We decide to stay behind the weatherd worn wood with our hearts and minds shielded from the perceived terror of being seen… and the hideous fear of then being found unloveable..or unworthy.
To let someone inside the shroud of black is terrifying, and there must be unshakable trust in a person, to dump the burden of being off of ourselves, risking exposure, and ask for assistance.
Why is it so hard to ask for help when it is desperately needed?
It occurs to me that having hope in something or someone that disappoints a person, can unearth destruction of monumental proportions on a fellow human.
Many of us have our trusted few friends and/or family members that we can confide in, but it seems that there are many who fall through the loop holes like water through a colander…
We try to open up, but when someone that we thought we knew let’s us down, or betrays our confidences, our inner world crumbles like an earthquake, and we vow to never be vulnerable again, because it’s just beyond us, to show our true selves, and not find acceptance.
The broken pieces can be put back together again, but not without much collective dedication of heart, and allowing for the healing warmth of forgiveness, and letting go of the past hurt to permeate our entire being.
Seeing those around me working towards the next thing in their lives is an extremely spirit bolstering process to witness. It takes strength of character to pick our pieces and resume life in another way.
Creativity appears to be such a healing balm to many of us.. It comes from so many exciting sources, and I’m wondering if we were born to create, and yet if we do not allow ourselves to pursue this, our gifts seems to shrivel up, and become a deadened branch on a living tree.
It seems mesmerizing that when one branch dies, and all the leaves turn to brown, and dries up, and blows away, the rest of the tree keeps growing and flourishing, while the stoic, grey piece ages, and blooms nevermore.
Does the root, and main stem miss this dead limb, or is it as it as if it never existed? Does the tree protect itself from giving its’ nutients away because the branch can no longer receive sustenance, and utilize it for new growth and blooming? Giving precious nutrients to the deceased limb would be fruitless effort…. and the deceased piece stays intact, until a great wind erupts, and it snaps off falling with a resounding thud upon the earth.
Looking around at the bountiful array of green and thriving trees swaying gently in the breeze, striking against a cloudless cerulean blue backdrop, they seem quite content, and fulfilled.
Losing a branch, or a limb, figuratively, or physically has to be such a shocking phenomenon. We can’t reconcile where that appendage has gone, and our mind plays tricks on us as we slumber.
We wake up having dreamt that life was as we left it, but one glimpse of our morning reality is in striking contrast to our true story of today.
We, then decide, after much contemplation, to dream new dreams, seek out something that was perhaps impossible before. Is it feasible to learn a new skill set at any age, create a new place, and life experience, and find new joy on an even deeper level?
This is hopeful thought , but we are like youngsters on our bikes that have training wheels. We have become accustomed to the wheels that we were never meant to use permanently .
Taking those wheels off, that first attempt to peddle as hard as we can, after usually positioning ourselves on a slight downhill advantage to give us every chance for success, and we then crash…. we fall posterior over teakettle , and are sprawled out on the unforgiving asphalt.
First.. we look around… sometimes mortified.. with perhaps some roadrash… and ask ourselves….who saw me fall?…
But why the embarrassment? We all fall, and are in the act of falling, finding ourselves laying on the pavement. It happens over and over. This is reality
Why care what somebody else thinks?
If our social awkwardness let us accept our failures, as part of the uncomfortable process of rebirth, we would be able to know that we are in constant falling, and getting up as we learn the next new thing.
Metamorphosis from a current way of thinking, can happen immediately, from a shock to the system, or slowly….over time, as we learn that our currrnt way of seeing the world, and moving through it is not as effective as we had hoped.
My children have taught me much more than I think I have ever taught them. They each have unique viewpoints that challenge my status quo.
I bought a big bag of hatch medium green chili peppers the other day.
I washed them off, and begin slicing them in half, brushing the seeds into the sink. Very shortly, I began coughing, then my nephew Phillip joined in, and soon, Logan from the other room noticed that his throat felt dry and irritated.
I realized… duh.. these were intense peppers. My nephew commented that I had accidentally made pepper spray..oops… not my intention to “ pepper spray” the kids..
We opened the patio door, and let the fresh air in, but it was illuminating to discover that the peppered air hung around for a bit. Powerful stuff… those little suckers.
Big lesson for me there. I have no business cutting into something I don’t really know about. It is best to educate myself on a situation, or understand what makes another person tick, before trying to unlock their reasons for choices that they make.
Natalie, my son’s girlfriend informed me that I was meant to roast them whole first, so that they were less potent. I did so later, and found that this was far more tolerable.
I learned something new.. it was great, and the kids were not maimed permanently in the process….which was such a relief.
Was I a little embarrassed at my smoking hot pepper sray fiasco?…kinda… but.. I got over it.. another lesson to learn..
Spicing it up taught me that I can overdo it at times, not intentionally, but none the less, accidental hurting someone that we love never feels good.
The spicy chilies were grilled, seeds, and membranes removed, fresh tomatoes were added from the garden, salt and pepper, and “ le voila,” they taste marvelous, and kept their heat while not damaging further the people contained within the household.
This present reality has allowed me to learn more about the fact that there is always more to learn. It is ever evolving, this process, and the way our view is enlightened by the encounters that we stumble upon.
Uncharted territory is ever before us, and a chance to gleen more insight into those beings that we cherish, and are doing life with.
I remain ever thankful to my children for allowing me to be myself, and fumble around often, as we learn new things separately, and together, and upend obstacles in our paths.
Seeking better ways to love, and understand one another is a constant process.
The present humbling of the human spirit allows teaching, and healing, and ultimately hope and joy meanders in, like a breath of the fresh outdoors, it brings new life, and leaves of learning spring up, and brighten the landscape of our reality.
The splinters, and shards from past hurts begin to dissipate, like the morning fog of before, the strength of light burns through, and shows us a new way, a path of things as yet not seen, if the loss of what we knew before had not occurred.
With reverence we remember, and with joy, we can choose to anticipate today, and what lays before. The present landscape is dotted with the thorns, and briars of uncertainty.. but….there is hope, to heal our diseases, our minds, and our hearts. This gives our spirits wings… and the courage to let the splinters which can pierce our hearts, and earthly vessels, and which keep us earthbound , soaring ever heavenward…..reaching for …Jesus..
One thought on ““A Splintered Reality…””
It’s as if you can read my mind, although you are able to put it all into beautifully written words. “Chapter Two” (what I am calling) is so scary. I fall down – a lot. But, as you said, sometimes you experience hopeful situations and you think you can go on. Thank you Jill.