It surprises me how even just the thought of typing these words causes the fear to rise. My breath feels, oh, so short…the air around me inadequate to supply what it was created to. Surely there is no oxygen for me, not enough to make breathing possible. Not clean, fresh air for sure.
To breath or talk is forbidden. Movement only attracts attention, so don’t move. To look at them? My parents?
For to do so brought unwanted attention. Wrong, dirty and painful. Eyes and touch full of hate.
Safer to be invisible.
So my little me learned as a child. More than learned, really. Rather, such was ingrained upon me. My childhood prison camp tattoo.
My No”s to be really my yes’s.
My mind to say yes, hide!
My body to block the external feeling as my heart did the internal.
It’s not cold, I am warm..yet how that possible? I am small and naked, outside, abandoned in a can. It is winter, as the hail rat-a-tats upon the lid. I focus on the sound to take my mind within, to journey away from present and hide in pretend.
NO! I SAY NOW, I WAS COLD!
I WAS LONELY, SAD AND FORLORN.
i was more than that then and i am more than that now, I whisper to my me, as i drift away.
This was my me of then, one that is doing more than waking up.
i am moving. from then to now
from within to without
no more hidden from myself
cold exists, i feel it these days. It fascinates me that my eyes cry as they feel it too, stingy. My ears tingle, us too as my hands look the same but beg for warmth as well. A coat that once felt undeserved and stifling now wraps me in comfort and coziness. I even find I want a hat upon my head, i want ALL OF ME to feel this cold that they can embrace the warmth.
Warmth of heart and home, of belonging and seeing and existing to experience…
My parents left me out, in the cold, locked away from life…
My Papa, God is letting me in.
That’s what true Papa’s do.
In my dreaming this night I woke myself sure someone was pounding at my front door, only to find no one there. Yet, I was so sure i heard pounding. I stood there a moment confused then opened the door and looked out wondering who would be out in this rainy, wintry mix? i even checked the other doors as i was so sure i had heard that house rattling knocking. As i stood still and breathed the cold, crisp air, i looked up The night dark, yet i felt safe. I shivered as the air told me it was cold, my feet reminding me they liked socks now. As i turned to go back in, realizing no one was outside that it must have been a dream, i paused, my hand upon the knob.
i smiled in my discomfort at my reflection in the window.
now i understood.
it was me knocking, little me from then.
for she knows now that she can look up and into eyes
bundled up and warm, cozy even
I stepped inside then, smiled that i could.
i the one who shut and locked the door, only though to keep out the cold and night.
Now i lie in my bed, sharing this nights healing journey. so full of Papa’s presence.
i shall go now, snuggle beneath my blankets, warm and safe. hold the love of God and Mama Mary close and sleep.
outside of me, inside of life.
my Papa’s Words my doorway out to in,
“I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.”
John 14:6 (KJV)