I've spent a lot of time lately remembering the Christmases of my childhood and the enchantment they held for me. I always loved the lights and the sparkling ornaments on the tree. I'd stand in the dark for hours just gazing in awe at their beauty. I would put on a record of holiday music and get swept up in the wonder of it all. I sang and I listened and I watched the colored lights twinkling in front of me....the smell of the fresh pine and of bayberry candles hanging in the air around me...until I was carried off to a magical place, far from all the humiliation, scolding, and derision that seemed to follow me everywhere. It was there, in that magical world, that I could breathe and enjoy a few moments of the peace and joy that so frequently eluded me.
And I LOVED the packages! I cared little for what they might contain. It was the bright bows and colorful wrappings that I found so captivating. I used to wait for a time when no one was around, so I could pick up and cradle each gift, one by one. I didn't shake them or try to peek beneath the paper. I merely wanted to handle each of them and look at it up close. I should explain that my mother used to spend HOURS decorating these packages. Trees with small ornaments, stockings full of fruit and candy, snow scenes with sleighs and snowmen, these were only some of them. They grew more elaborate each year. One I remember with great fondness, was a fireplace with a fire that looked real and a mantel with stockings hanging from it. But even those packages without such adornment held a fascination for me. They looked so pretty there, reflecting the shimmering lights and glass balls that hung from the branches above. I wish I could go there again. I wish I could take you there. We could all use a little magic....
May you experience magic in this, and EVERY season of your new year.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Backdraft
There are many rooms within my soul. Some, I visit when I can, just to hang out and enjoy their atmosphere. These are sunlit, open rooms full of joy, laughter, hope, peace, and safety.
But there are other rooms....rooms that stay shut tight...locked rooms at the end of dark, scary hallways I usually avoid....rooms best NOT visited.
These are the rooms that contain the ever smoldering embers of disappointment, fear, shame, anger....and pain. Inside these rooms, there's still plenty of fuel to burn. The fuel is made up of memories that, under everyday circumstances, seethe quietly behind closed doors....lacking the oxygen that would cause them to ignite all over again. Still, the memories do exist in these rooms...smoking remnants of the past that never burn out. They are but fiery coals hidden under a layer of ash....until....someone comes along and decides to...open...the...door.
Slowly, they turn the knob to one of the "forbidden" doors. The embers within recieve new life and then... suddenly...in a blinding flash, the memories explode and ignite anew, blazing forth with searing heat....scorching the hallways and leaving me badly burned. Paralyzed by shock, all I can do is look on in mute horror at the hideous conflagration before me. Finally, it consumes me, leaving me gutted. Where is the person who opened the door? They are almost always able to flee the scene unscathed and watch from a distance until charred ruins are all that remain.
I am devastated.....................BUT....the door opener never stays long enough to see what happens next. If that person were to be patient and look closely, they would see me slowly....quietly....piece by piece...arise from those ashes.
Then I manage to stuff the feelings and memories into another room, where they burn low and nearly go out. But the memories are still there, closed up tight, until the next wind blows in through an open door....
But there are other rooms....rooms that stay shut tight...locked rooms at the end of dark, scary hallways I usually avoid....rooms best NOT visited.
These are the rooms that contain the ever smoldering embers of disappointment, fear, shame, anger....and pain. Inside these rooms, there's still plenty of fuel to burn. The fuel is made up of memories that, under everyday circumstances, seethe quietly behind closed doors....lacking the oxygen that would cause them to ignite all over again. Still, the memories do exist in these rooms...smoking remnants of the past that never burn out. They are but fiery coals hidden under a layer of ash....until....someone comes along and decides to...open...the...door.
Slowly, they turn the knob to one of the "forbidden" doors. The embers within recieve new life and then... suddenly...in a blinding flash, the memories explode and ignite anew, blazing forth with searing heat....scorching the hallways and leaving me badly burned. Paralyzed by shock, all I can do is look on in mute horror at the hideous conflagration before me. Finally, it consumes me, leaving me gutted. Where is the person who opened the door? They are almost always able to flee the scene unscathed and watch from a distance until charred ruins are all that remain.
I am devastated.....................BUT....the door opener never stays long enough to see what happens next. If that person were to be patient and look closely, they would see me slowly....quietly....piece by piece...arise from those ashes.
Then I manage to stuff the feelings and memories into another room, where they burn low and nearly go out. But the memories are still there, closed up tight, until the next wind blows in through an open door....
Thursday, December 9, 2010
BLUE
A few years ago, I had a conversation with a counselor. I told her how I had always felt "different". This is how I explained it to her....
It's like I'm BLUE. The COLOR blue. Everyone around me ranges from peach to tan to brown to dark mocha. Not me. I'M BLUE. That makes me stand out everywhere I go. When I was young, I just thought being blue was normal. But soon, I learned that blue was WEIRD....unusual....odd...out of place. So, I learned to hide my "blueness". As time went on, I developed a variety of disguises to prevent "regular" people from seeing that I was actually blue. I could usually succeed....for awhile. I could manage to make myself acceptable to those who were non-blue. But eventually the blue would always start to show through, despite my best efforts to keep it a secret. I would try to keep a lid on my secret, but sooner or later, it would just come screaming forth from somewhere deep inside, "I'M BLUE!!!!!" Of course, that caused most people to bolt in fear and disgust like I was Pepe Le Pew with leprosy!
With a few people, I was allowed to get closer. Eventually,there would come a time when I would feel safe enough to show them my blueness...at least a big part of it. But those people left too...most of them. Some put an abrupt end to their relationship with me. Others slowly backed away a little at a time until they were far away. More often than not, they simply disappeared. No warning. No explanation. Gone.
That sort of thing takes a toll on a person, I can tell you. But I always wondered what the hell was WRONG with me! Inside, I was always screaming, "WHY?!!!" It hurt....
This counselor suggested at some point, that I had ADD. "Me?", I replied incredulously. "ME??? No way! Uh-uh. That's not it' That's not me!!"
But of course, she was right. And now I know what makes me "blue". I also know I'm not alone in my blueness. "Regular" people still disappear on me. I'm still afraid to reveal my true identity. But somehow, it feels a bit better now that I understand things more. There's NOTHING "wrong" with me. I'm OK.
I'm just BLUE.....Are you?
It's like I'm BLUE. The COLOR blue. Everyone around me ranges from peach to tan to brown to dark mocha. Not me. I'M BLUE. That makes me stand out everywhere I go. When I was young, I just thought being blue was normal. But soon, I learned that blue was WEIRD....unusual....odd...out of place. So, I learned to hide my "blueness". As time went on, I developed a variety of disguises to prevent "regular" people from seeing that I was actually blue. I could usually succeed....for awhile. I could manage to make myself acceptable to those who were non-blue. But eventually the blue would always start to show through, despite my best efforts to keep it a secret. I would try to keep a lid on my secret, but sooner or later, it would just come screaming forth from somewhere deep inside, "I'M BLUE!!!!!" Of course, that caused most people to bolt in fear and disgust like I was Pepe Le Pew with leprosy!
With a few people, I was allowed to get closer. Eventually,there would come a time when I would feel safe enough to show them my blueness...at least a big part of it. But those people left too...most of them. Some put an abrupt end to their relationship with me. Others slowly backed away a little at a time until they were far away. More often than not, they simply disappeared. No warning. No explanation. Gone.
That sort of thing takes a toll on a person, I can tell you. But I always wondered what the hell was WRONG with me! Inside, I was always screaming, "WHY?!!!" It hurt....
This counselor suggested at some point, that I had ADD. "Me?", I replied incredulously. "ME??? No way! Uh-uh. That's not it' That's not me!!"
But of course, she was right. And now I know what makes me "blue". I also know I'm not alone in my blueness. "Regular" people still disappear on me. I'm still afraid to reveal my true identity. But somehow, it feels a bit better now that I understand things more. There's NOTHING "wrong" with me. I'm OK.
I'm just BLUE.....Are you?
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