Finish

All those years ago I said I'd finish this. 

I'm not sure I realized what I was agreeing to do. 

It's been nearly 14 years since I was diagnosed with chronic PTSD, the result of childhood sexual abuse. I swore when they diagnosed me, I'd stay the course until I had dug through it all. Until it was finished and I was "better".

There may have been a flaw in my word choice. 

I don't think this will be finished until I'm dead and gone home to heaven, because these things that happened to me also helped to fashion me into the person I am. If I finish investigating my life, my experiences, my hopes, my dreams -- well then I'm done, I'm finished. And the only way I see that happening is through death. 

I'm still okay with finishing this process, but I'm not feeling the need to hurry it along. 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, 

But I have promises to keep, 

And miles to go before I sleep, 

And miles to go before I sleep.

--Robert Frost

linking up with Five Minute Friday

many thanks to Lisa-Jo Baker for creating and hosting this wonderful meme, and welcome to Kate Motaung for taking over the helm

Surface People

The Secret Sits 

We dance round in a ring and suppose,

But the Secret sits in the middle and knows. 

-- Robert Frost 

Surface people. Some call them shallow. They follow whoever leads, regardless of where they are led. Round and round – with no concern that their path is taking them nowhere.

I followed, confused that I seemed to be getting nowhere. I felt out of step somehow. I followed and followed and followed, but it never felt comfortable, accurate. What was wrong with me? Why didn’t I enjoy this dance? Why couldn’t I find the rhythm?

I couldn’t survive in that vacuum. What happens when one person steps out of the circle? When one person moves towards the Secret?

I did. I moved out of the circle and went toward the Secret because I wanted to know, even if no one else did. I wanted to know why we talked of insignificant things. Why we talked about other people. Why we never discussed ideas and concepts. Why did we not question?

What I found when I moved toward instead of around, was so much more –- pain, sorrow, and angst, but joy, laughter, and peace, as well.

Surface people. They don’t dig. Don’t they want to know what’s underneath? What’s holding them up or pulling them down?

I didn’t just scratch the surface. I dug in like a mole. I didn’t just dig, I excavated. Pushing through rubble and dust and debris and bones. I crawled through sewers. Miles and miles of sewers. All by myself. Until I thought I might never see the light of day again. And yet, when I did come through, it was like Dorothy opening the door into Oz – the light, the color. Amazing, dazzling, inspiring.

I turned back to bring them with me.

Surface people. But they wouldn’t come. They stayed on the surface, and thought I was crazy for excavating. They tried to humor me. They tried to lure me back to the surface. They couldn’t understand why I couldn’t, wouldn’t come back to their black and white world.

They turned on me. I was the traitor. The one who abandoned them. They weren’t able to stretch from their rutted circle. One little step, but they couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Where is their longing for depth? Can it possibly be enough to just keep dancing in a ring your whole life long?

I want depth, authenticity, reality. I want to know the Secret.

linking up at Write on Edge