Part of this new process of journaling and blogging and really get back to my writing has brought about some interesting things. I am rediscovering the poet. It's as if buried under the organizer, planner, creative artist, responsible adult is this multifaceted soul with unexpressed emotions just screaming to be heard.
I pulled out a book of my own poems written over about a 5 year period during the later years of high school and the first years of college. They were rough years but reading what was written, I realize I have forgotten how bad they really were (or at least how horrible I percieved them to be). When we look back on our pasts do we really see them for what they were or has time lessened their import? Or, do we imagine them as horrific events that we were lucky to survive and, if we are truly honest with ourselves, were they no more tragic than any other persons experience?
Our views of our pasts are so skewed. I find that so interesting. Our parents, our siblings, our closest friends - they were all there as well. Was the experience we remember as painful or jubilant for them or is it simply our recollection? Every experience is skewed by our own perceptions of the same thus, the same moment in time is different for every person who was there experiencing that moment. Example: I was present at the birth of my niece with my sister and her husband. We were all in the same room, a part of the miracle taking place but each of us remembers it a bit differently. Each of us has our own idea of what that moment felt like, looked like, etc. It is skewed by our own insights and perceptions. All are truth yet non are truth. They are true because they are what we, as participants, remember of the moment. They are not truth as they are altered by our own views, ideas, opinions, etc. It is the same with my past poetry. It is truth as it is my reflection and my emotions yet it is not truth as it is a reflection of my own perceptions of my life and other peoples responses to me which are easily misinterpreted.
In reading my personal reflections and hear a soul thirsty for so many things, for love and acceptance, for joy, for stability... I wonder how that young girl survived such turmoil and pain. Of course the people around me never saw or truly understood that darkness so their recollections are very different.
Is all that angst real? Some, yes. Granted there are moments of great repetition, poor rhyme scheme, awkward metophorical phrases, etc. but in each piece I have re-read I feel a sense of loneliness, of darkness, abandonment, fear, and a overwhelming desire to escape the reality that was in the hopes that something better (often death) would replace it. How sad this girl was! How relieved I am that God granted me the fortitude to press on through this time to the now!
In reflection I can tell you I had a good past. I had (and still have) a family that loves me (or at least they pretend well! :) ) We survived the struggle and trials life threw our way and while it wasn't always easy or pretty, we are stronger because of it. God has been good in ways that are still unfathomable.
I can also tell you I had a rocky past. We were shuffled around a lot as Dad pursued his calling to be a minister and while I have some excellent survival skills in this regard, we all have born the scars and bruises of those experiences in our own way. I see more clearly now that I have a dark spot in my soul that not many truly understand. It is a place where this scared child resides, fending off the demons that threaten to overwhelm at times. It is difficult to live in those dark places but on the edge of the darkness is a Light that does grow and overcome it. Recognizing that the Light is there and will come again is often the only thing to hold on to in those moments.
So, I am becoming the poet again. I am looking to these words from the past and working to find ways to re-express more clearly what was in my mind and heart. I am seeing myself in those pages more clearly than before and realizing that some of me still exists on those pages. I have yet to discover who that girl is but she is a survivor. Should be an interesting journey.
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