There has been much happening in the depths of my soul of late, and with the season of christmas upon us, it seems appropriate to share some of the thoughts which have been part of my inner journey. I share with the intent of appreciating the gift of understanding, hoping it may help those reading who share the difficulties I often face. Christmas is a difficult time for many of us, there can be an emptiness which cannot be filled, the intense emotions pushing us into depression. Some of what I will say is not spoken to ask for sympathy nor do I want anyone to be concerned for me, it is just part of the journey, acceptance settling into my inner being.
I have been very fortunate over the last months to have the friendship of a man who has understanding of what I am going through based on his own experiences. To be able to speak to someone in person who does not judge, does not criticize or make me feel small for the stories of my life has been a great gift. For many months I had no one to talk to, alone with my thoughts, which seemed to guide me to a better understanding of what I had lost in my life. Accepting the greatest loss – that of self, when I was 2 years old, as I have been given the time and space to grieve, something I was not able to do until I understood completely who I was. I compare this to people who fear a family member has died, but do not have their body, their grieving process on hold until they can confirm the loss.
Christmas, a day we celebrate the birth of Christ, so it should be a happy time, a day to believe in miracles. But the life of Christ was threatened before his birth and there was need to keep him hidden shortly after. The contrast of joy and concern constant companions. Today the celebration of this day seems more focused on gifts received, our credit cards carrying the weight of our desires to have more. I have enjoyed the more humble approach to this festive day, the pressure to give gifts not on my shoulders, the worry of buying the “right thing” for someone gone. It is still a day of hope however, one I continue to believe in, but now it is without the pressure of pretending what I grew up with in Canada was family, the deceptions of that life released. I can only wonder what happened to me at Christmas to make it a day I feared approaching each year so great. Perhaps I will never know those reasons, so instead I am working on my experiences having a more positive affect, so the day is no longer associated with fear.
Yesterday while taking the bus home, there were many without tickets standing for quite some time. A man, his wife and their young daughter were standing beside me, the girl intent on having a conversation. She seemed not to care if I understood her, and continued to chatter away as I smiled and did my best to contribute in a small way. I was carrying stargazer lilies which I purchased at the market (from the rainforest – no chemicals), something I intended as a gift for Marina who I will visit on Christmas Day. This young girl thought they were very special and the flowers remained her focus for the time she stood beside me. I broke off one of the blooms for her to take with her, a small gift for Navidad, enjoying her happiness for receiving it. She seemed fascinated by my hair, and wanted to touch it, the color I suppose so different in her mind, it may not seem real. I did not mind her fascination, allowing her to verify it was indeed real….There was a man sitting across the aisle from me watching our interaction, and I wondered what he was thinking.
At Santa Rosa, the family got off the bus, the young girl still holding her flower (they did not have to stand the whole way, but sat behind me). As I watched them leave, the man across from me asked me where I lived. Then he tried to explain something else here at Santa Rosa, pointing to the distance ahead, but his words were lost on me – I did not understand what he wanted me to know. When we got to Apuela as I began to get my things ready to leave, he suddenly grabbed my right arm with some strength – he wanted my attention. Once more he was saying something to me which I felt was important, but could not understand. He had his right hand ready to shake my hand, but did not reach further until I made a move to close the gap. His left hand still holding my arm as we shook, I could not think of what to say, so wished him Feliz Navidad, now noticing the woman behind him watching me intently, then smiling and wishing me well. I said good-bye to the man as I began to walk away, disappointed not to know what he said to me. But despite not understanding the words, the intent stayed with me inspiring thoughts this morning which I feel are connected.
As I woke this morning, many thoughts were circling in my mind, forming an idea which seemed important regarding the documentary I wish to begin. Connected also is the acceptance of my situation, a peaceful understanding to the reality I am facing, giving me comfort. Knowing that in just over a month I will no longer be able to pay for a roof over my head, Mali and myself beginning a life on the road, our path uncertain, our destination unknown, something I do not expect to survive. My father took to the road in his young life, experiencing such uncertainty as he left to find the man he became. I realized on Sunday evening I was not afraid anymore of facing this reality. Having almost no response to my cry for help in the last post, failure seems ingrained in my being. That I was disappointed in not hearing from the many I called friends in Canada, with some very small exception, I realized I had expectation when I wrote the post, something I lied to myself about. I thought about the movie Eat, Pray, Love, the scene when the main character sent out a letter to her friends asking for financial assistance for someone she had come to know. Their response was automatic, the desired outcome accomplished, so it was difficult to accept, I did not have the same affect with my request. This helped me to understand something though, which in the end gave me such a peaceful feeling as I lay in bed that night. In the movie, Julia Roberts character was respected, her friends supported her because they believed in her, trusted her. This is something I have not experienced, rather it has been the opposite. If one does not have support, if no one believes in you, cannot trust your decisions, or believe in your ability to succeed, then can you believe in yourself, your own ability to succeed? Behind every great person, one who accomplishes great deeds, there are people who believe in them, and this is what has been lacking in my life – someone who believes in me enough to take a chance. If over the years, not only was there no one who believed in my abilities, but there was intentional aim at destroying my confidence, taking away the ability to believe in success, can I blame myself for the utter failure of my life? The comfort, my rebirth in a sense, comes from understanding none of that matters anymore, what anyone else sees or does not see can no longer change who I am, who I am trying to be once more. The realization I found enough threads in my past, enabled me to come here in search of my home, despite my dismal track record. The courage I found in myself to make this journey coming from the belief the truth about my birth parents had been uncovered. This is the success I have been after – to accept this truth on a deeper level, believe in it enough to step way out of my comfort zone into a world I had once understood, but lost. Once more I face my own demise, as I did when I was a child, alone in a room with no window, no one to comfort me, as they forced the burden of the terrifying acts against me and my family onto my shoulders. I am at the beginning once more…..the difference? There is a window in my isolated room and it is open, I can see the beauty of the world outside.
On this morning the day seems to be symbolic in a way to the rebirth of my true self, to begin at the time we celebrate the birth of Christ, a man my father was often compared to. Death is not the end, only a new beginning…. those who, like Christ born to stand up against tyranny in order to change the world, and those who, like my father, Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy and JFK, chose to fight with different methods, in their attempts to change the world, accepted death as a reality of their cause. Death has not stopped them.
….”Well we die sometimes to begin again
When the same old dreams have the same old end
When we lose our mind or we lose our friends
Days when we sink like a stone” ……Tears for Fears
David my friend has offered me a different solution for my predicament, but as yet I have not been able to justify his generosity, something difficult for me. It is not that I don’t appreciate his kindness, it is just foreign to me. As we rode the bus together yesterday morning, we had the time and he had the desire to listen to me. I explained that while I may hear the words when people tell me nice things, I cannot accept them, the words of hate continually overshadowing. Almost 60 years of being told I have no value, that I deserved the abuse because of who I am cannot be underestimated – a child of 2 being told such things, being shown such violent acts cannot survive intact. Someone seeing “the good” in me is just something I do not understand, although I do keep trying. A stranger on the bus who insists on shaking my hand truly makes me ponder what others see, that I cannot…….I have died to begin again many times, so while there is hope, I will keep trying.
I wish for everyone the blessings of this amazing day we call Christmas, a day of hope, of great Love and the promise of a peaceful existence, one where hate takes the back room (we know it cannot be eliminated completely for balance comes from understanding both, the concept of yin/yang). May the blessings from this day carry you forward into the new year, that you may continue the enjoyment meant for us all with the birth of Christ…..