this point
This Point
I’m not writing this to elicit sympathy or pity or whatever. That would make me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t want it, neither from friends nor from strangers. But especially friends. I’m writing this here because it’s my safe place to express myself. It’s a place people visit to see my work and perhaps understand a little more about me. So right now, at this moment, I need an ear or two to hear this. Just ears, not mouths.
For the past few days I’ve been haunted by all the things I’ve done that have lead me to this point. This point. It feels very specific, like I’ve reached the apex of my wretchedness. I am generally not a nice person (to people I don’t like), I am not particularly spiritual or generous, and I have a terrible temper that has, at one point or another, touched a person I love. But the biggest thing that haunts me is all the times I’ve hurt my children in the past and the times I do in the present. I sit here alone on a Friday night, at home-which I normally love doing-feeling all the weight of my children’s sadness, confusion and insecurities over the years on my shoulders; and even more heavily on my heart.
I bought this gorgeous ‘origami’ paper from Green & Stone’s, but it’s not really origami paper so I repurposed it.
This reminded me of a boob, so naturally I had to include it here.
I am reading a most fascinating book called Loving What Is by Byron Katie. She suggests we ask ourselves four essential questions when we are plagued by our thoughts in order to establish their validity. It has never occurred to me to question my thoughts. I assumed they existed outside of my control. I know. You just wanted me to listen. And I did. I too torment myself about the pain I’ve caused my children. But just because I think it, doesn’t mean it is so. “This point” is more nebulous than time. (Like steam from a tea kettle…..pshhhhhhh).
Sending radiant energy into the universe and whispering “Ghadah”….
I just heard it. Thank you x