You left this world on 5 December 2008. In the wake of your sudden departure, lies a pathway scattered with broken hearts and puddles of water formed by the tears of those who have survived you. How, though, does one survive the aftermath of a sudden loss? The reality is too unreal for a mind to comprehend. You were too young, too vibrant, too full of life, too PRESENT to suddenly no longer be.
We all say it shouldn't have been you but I know you know differently. You do understand that it's harder for us, don't you? We have no comprehension of where you are. We have ideas. But we've been told so many different things, how does one really know what to believe? How do you balance logic and reason when there is a total lack of any logic and reason; when your world is tipped on its axis and balance is impossible? How do you begin to tell the broken hearts that it's going to be ok; that you haven't really left at all?
I know you haven't left. I can feel you. Perhaps that's normal. Perhaps it's wishful thinking. You seem peaceful and relaxed. Or is that just my hopeful mind playing tricks on me? How can I sit and talk about this calmly when, every few minutes, the thought of it takes my breath away. How can someone be, and then not be, within the space of a few seconds? How do you get your mind around such a solid fact, when that fact seems to be surrounded by an invisible force field and comprehension just bounces right off of it.
I know you haven't left. I can hear your voice in my head, or is that just my own voice playing tricks on me? I talk out loud to myself so that, when I talk to you, I can convince myself it's normal. Although I'm almost positive you answer me back, what if I just wish you did?
I've experienced loss before, but I was able to start dealing with the loss long before it actually occurred. You didn't give us any time. Was there a reason for that? I know, I know, you have your reasons. I don't want to question the natural order of things. You seem to know what you're doing. This is a very hard lesson for so many people. Do you think they're all strong enough to take the lesson and run with it? Even the strongest person has a limit to what they can withstand. If I'm struggling, there are people who are finding this a thousand times harder.
Does it hurt you to see that? You always had so much love for so many people. You couldn't bear to see anyone sad or hurting. You had a natural gift for empathy. Now that you've left that life and are looking at the bigger picture, it must seem like we're making a mountain out of a molehill. I do think that, the person who you were, was your soul reflected in human form and the caring and compassion you had for people, is a caring and compassion you have for all souls, from whatever dimension. I know you hurt for us, even as I know you are at peace.
I think you chose to come back in that particular form, for very specific reasons. There were souls here, who needed you. We needed to learn from you. You achieved what you set out to do. I'm sure you know that. You taught so many people that love is simple and that it can cure anything. You showed us that life doesn't have to be so complicated, that's it's not worth sweating the small stuff. You had a quiet wisdom that was evident in the times when people needed you, evident in so many ways.
You also had your lessons to learn. In human form, we all succumb to the phrase, "We're only human. We all make mistakes." Your lessons, in turn, were lessons for us. I know you learnt from those around you and you grew from it. You were an old soul to begin with. It didn't take you long to reach the level you aimed for. It wasn't long before we were all learning from you.
You also knew that you had to leave, and that your leaving would be one of the hardest lessons of all, for those you left behind. But before you left you had one more thing to do. You took a soul that was broken and hurting, and helped it to heal, simply by showing it that love could be easy, unconditional and without complication. You truly are a beautiful soul.
Even though I know you're still around, you are missed. Even with your voice in my head, the sadness sometimes overwhelms me and I hope you understand that. We are just human. We are not infallible. I will try, for your sake, to be strong and to pay it forward wherever I can. I'll take the lessons you are teaching me and learn from them. I will never be the same again and I can thank you for that and you know my reasons. You will be missed. The hole you've left can't be filled. There was only one you. But we will all, somehow, adjust to the empty space there.
I know you are peaceful and I'm thankful for that. I know you are happy and, for that, too, I am thankful. I'm also thankful for the brief time we had with you on earth and for all that you gave us. There is so much, that was good, to remember and I'll always treasure those memories. Though we miss you, I know we will see you again when the time is right.
In the meantime, I will try and adjust to the hole in my life and try and fill it with the memories to keep you close.
So, until we meet again, fly, little angel.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Life Changing Decembers and Monstrous Opportunities
It's the 27th December 2009 and that means it's 25 days since my life took a dramatic, not so pleasant turn. I was thinking about it earlier as I prepared for bed and it occurred to me that December has actually ALWAYS been a month of change for me. It's not like I go out and make a conscious decision to change my life each December! Oh no! Quite the contrary in fact... At the time that these dramatic changes occur, I am generally quite happily content, almost smug, in the knowledge that my life is happily perfect.
I should know better...
I always preach to my friends, and even acquaintances, about how the universe has a way of throwing a curve ball right at you, just at the moment that you are in that happy, content, smug little safe zone. It's quite interesting, then, how I never ever expect it, myself! I am ALWAYS surprised... usually horribly.
If I REALLY take the time to think about it, AFTER said curve ball has come flying out of left field, I realise that the signs were actually there all along. I simply refused to acknowledge them. You know how a little child, when scared of monsters at night, will cover their eyes with the blanket? The theory, and it makes perfect sense to a child, is that, if I can't see them, they can't see me and therefore can't hurt me. As one gets older, one begins to realise that this is far from true and yet, it's still so tempting to give in to that old tactic time and time again. All that really changes is the breed of monster, and the blanket!
I think that's why I actually SHOULD expect the curve ball (read: Monster), but I prefer, in a child-like way, to pretend it's not actually there. Fortunately for most children, the monster really IS just a figment of their imagination, however, for me, the monsters are quite real and so scary that I've chosen to blanket them out.
I won't go into all of them, however, let me give you an idea of the pattern my Decembers have followed in recent years...
2 Decembers ago, saw the end of a relationship that signalled the end, sadly, of a friendship as well. I'm not sure why that happened but I think that is the danger of never really talking things out and I was too upset with myself, and the other party, to sort it out then and there. Time marches on, lives go on, and we move on... or do we? The fact that it was a landmark in my life suggest otherwise to me. It was a disconcerting, unwanted curveball and it definitely changed me.
1 December ago I was on my way to a show when I received a call that irrevocably changed me. A close, very dear friend of mine had passed away suddenly and tragically. I was devastated and that December was spent trying to come to terms with it. Without a doubt, a tragic landmark that is indelibly etched on the wall of my mind, and my heart and no December will EVER be the same.
It's hard to believe a year has passed but here I am at another December and I find myself, once again, reeling in shock. This time, it's the end of a relationship I thought was The One. I suppose this one will get more attention as the others have been covered in-depth and this, I have yet to compartmentalise in my mind.
I have covered the obligatory falling apart phase. I allowed myself approximately 2 weeks during which time I did all the usual things one does in this situation. We've all been there and I'm sure you don't expect me to elaborate. If you do, you may be in for a bit of a wait...
And then, a lifeline! My family, my wonderful family, decided to rescue me from a lonely, empty Johannesburg, and transport me to... the United Kingdom?! Whoa, back up here I can hear you say. You left sunny South Africa to travel to a cold, dark, wet place for 2 weeks?
Yes... I most certainly did. In fact, I would have sold my soul to have done that but fortunately for me, I didn't have to. There was a time when I might not have jumped at the opportunity. I have always disliked England and London in particular. There was also a time when my family and I did not quite see eye to eye on certain things and, at that time, the end of a relationship might very well be cause for celebration on their part! I exaggerate slightly but I do know that, offering condolences in this kind of situation would seem foreign and perhaps, unnecessary, to them. That was at a time when empathy was hard to conjure up for both parties concerned.
Since that time, we have talked, and cried, and talked, and laughed, and talked, and hugged, and talked some more. It's amazing what you can fix by talking! In fact, everything is so well fixed that I felt comfortable crying on their shoulders, and they felt comfortable offering tissues and hugs.
I digress slightly but it was a necessary detour. To continue, there is no place in the world I would rather have been, than with my family. If that had meant travelling to Mars, I would have done it. There is no greater balm for the soul than being around people who know you, and all your faults, and feel free to tell them to you, while discussing the merits of Sensodyne toothpaste and what we're having for lunch! When it comes to family, you know, or you SHOULD know, that, no matter how dramatic and hurtful the disagreement, you will STILL be there for each other and love each other. It's an unspoken rule.
After 2 weeks with my quirky, slightly off-the-wall family, I feel quite close to normal again! I feel like a hazelnut, who's shell unexpectedly cracked open and peeled off, leaving the soft centre unprotected and bare, that has been dipped in rich, dark chocolate! (I only choose dark because it's my favourite kind!) It's much more user-friendly than a hard shell, and a much more gentle kind of protection for the hazelnut. In short, I feel quite deliciously safe again!
25 days after a chapter in my life suddenly ended, I am once again at a crossroads. Perhaps there's a reason why this always happens in December. January signals new beginnings, a fresh start, a chance to right the wrongs. Perhaps, in a way, I am actually lucky that December is my designated month of change. It's always a bit easier to implement changes when there is a definite starting line. There it is then, my silver lining.
In 2 days time I will have to leave here. At my time of arrival, I hadn't seen my brother or my older sister and my nieces, for a year and a half. The distance is unbelievably, unforgivably hard. Ironically, I have a bad experience to thank for that opportunity to see them. I will see them again in March, when they will be flying out for, what should have been a wedding, so again, I have this bad experience to thank for that opportunity!
Isn't it amazing that when you lift off the blanket, and open your eyes, it isn't actually monsters you see; just undiscovered opportunities!
I should know better...
I always preach to my friends, and even acquaintances, about how the universe has a way of throwing a curve ball right at you, just at the moment that you are in that happy, content, smug little safe zone. It's quite interesting, then, how I never ever expect it, myself! I am ALWAYS surprised... usually horribly.
If I REALLY take the time to think about it, AFTER said curve ball has come flying out of left field, I realise that the signs were actually there all along. I simply refused to acknowledge them. You know how a little child, when scared of monsters at night, will cover their eyes with the blanket? The theory, and it makes perfect sense to a child, is that, if I can't see them, they can't see me and therefore can't hurt me. As one gets older, one begins to realise that this is far from true and yet, it's still so tempting to give in to that old tactic time and time again. All that really changes is the breed of monster, and the blanket!
I think that's why I actually SHOULD expect the curve ball (read: Monster), but I prefer, in a child-like way, to pretend it's not actually there. Fortunately for most children, the monster really IS just a figment of their imagination, however, for me, the monsters are quite real and so scary that I've chosen to blanket them out.
I won't go into all of them, however, let me give you an idea of the pattern my Decembers have followed in recent years...
2 Decembers ago, saw the end of a relationship that signalled the end, sadly, of a friendship as well. I'm not sure why that happened but I think that is the danger of never really talking things out and I was too upset with myself, and the other party, to sort it out then and there. Time marches on, lives go on, and we move on... or do we? The fact that it was a landmark in my life suggest otherwise to me. It was a disconcerting, unwanted curveball and it definitely changed me.
1 December ago I was on my way to a show when I received a call that irrevocably changed me. A close, very dear friend of mine had passed away suddenly and tragically. I was devastated and that December was spent trying to come to terms with it. Without a doubt, a tragic landmark that is indelibly etched on the wall of my mind, and my heart and no December will EVER be the same.
It's hard to believe a year has passed but here I am at another December and I find myself, once again, reeling in shock. This time, it's the end of a relationship I thought was The One. I suppose this one will get more attention as the others have been covered in-depth and this, I have yet to compartmentalise in my mind.
I have covered the obligatory falling apart phase. I allowed myself approximately 2 weeks during which time I did all the usual things one does in this situation. We've all been there and I'm sure you don't expect me to elaborate. If you do, you may be in for a bit of a wait...
And then, a lifeline! My family, my wonderful family, decided to rescue me from a lonely, empty Johannesburg, and transport me to... the United Kingdom?! Whoa, back up here I can hear you say. You left sunny South Africa to travel to a cold, dark, wet place for 2 weeks?
Yes... I most certainly did. In fact, I would have sold my soul to have done that but fortunately for me, I didn't have to. There was a time when I might not have jumped at the opportunity. I have always disliked England and London in particular. There was also a time when my family and I did not quite see eye to eye on certain things and, at that time, the end of a relationship might very well be cause for celebration on their part! I exaggerate slightly but I do know that, offering condolences in this kind of situation would seem foreign and perhaps, unnecessary, to them. That was at a time when empathy was hard to conjure up for both parties concerned.
Since that time, we have talked, and cried, and talked, and laughed, and talked, and hugged, and talked some more. It's amazing what you can fix by talking! In fact, everything is so well fixed that I felt comfortable crying on their shoulders, and they felt comfortable offering tissues and hugs.
I digress slightly but it was a necessary detour. To continue, there is no place in the world I would rather have been, than with my family. If that had meant travelling to Mars, I would have done it. There is no greater balm for the soul than being around people who know you, and all your faults, and feel free to tell them to you, while discussing the merits of Sensodyne toothpaste and what we're having for lunch! When it comes to family, you know, or you SHOULD know, that, no matter how dramatic and hurtful the disagreement, you will STILL be there for each other and love each other. It's an unspoken rule.
After 2 weeks with my quirky, slightly off-the-wall family, I feel quite close to normal again! I feel like a hazelnut, who's shell unexpectedly cracked open and peeled off, leaving the soft centre unprotected and bare, that has been dipped in rich, dark chocolate! (I only choose dark because it's my favourite kind!) It's much more user-friendly than a hard shell, and a much more gentle kind of protection for the hazelnut. In short, I feel quite deliciously safe again!
25 days after a chapter in my life suddenly ended, I am once again at a crossroads. Perhaps there's a reason why this always happens in December. January signals new beginnings, a fresh start, a chance to right the wrongs. Perhaps, in a way, I am actually lucky that December is my designated month of change. It's always a bit easier to implement changes when there is a definite starting line. There it is then, my silver lining.
In 2 days time I will have to leave here. At my time of arrival, I hadn't seen my brother or my older sister and my nieces, for a year and a half. The distance is unbelievably, unforgivably hard. Ironically, I have a bad experience to thank for that opportunity to see them. I will see them again in March, when they will be flying out for, what should have been a wedding, so again, I have this bad experience to thank for that opportunity!
Isn't it amazing that when you lift off the blanket, and open your eyes, it isn't actually monsters you see; just undiscovered opportunities!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
A place in my space
I should warn you right from the start that this is probably not going to have much to do what with music... or maybe it will... I never know where my mind is going to wander when I sit down to type. But, either way, it's typed by a musician and, as far as I'm concerned, that's what this blog is for: A Musician's Musings. So here I sit and muse away...
I've circled my blog like a wary fighter for days now. I started typing but it felt contrived. I'm still not sure if this will end up getting posted. It depends how honest I can be with myself I guess. I'm a firm believer in honesty; especially with oneself. If you can't be honest with yourself, there's a good chance that you're going to be dishonest with someone else. That's the way I figure it anyway. I always thought it was hardest to be honest with oneself. A lot of you may disagree. Humour me for a moment here.
The person you spend the most time with, is yourself. It stands to reason, then, that you should have a high enough opinion of yourself to be able to stand yourself for long periods! The problem though, is that when you spend a lot of time with anyone, they start to become aware of all your faults and shortcomings. We can therefore safely assume that no-one is more aware of their own shortcomings, than you are of your own and that's a really hard pill to swallow for some! It's a simple step from there, to telling yourself little lies. Is this confusing the hell out of you? Good! It's doing the same to me! I don't really care what point I was trying to get across anymore, but the thing is, if you have a low opinion of yourself, it's going to prove incredibly difficult to still be able to look yourself in the eye and say, "You screwed up!" It's going to be even harder to look someone you love in the eye and say, "I screwed up!"
I guess that's what I'm getting at. It starts with you. That's a hard reality for some. Take me, for example. For reasons that aren't relevant to this blog, I grew up doubting and questioning myself a lot. I had a very low opinion of myself and that meant I made a lot of stupid choices. I admit that now but it took me years to be able to. I wanted to point fingers at everything and everyone else because it was so much easier than admitting the fault was with me. The problem with doing that is that my conscience wouldn't allow me. That meant that I had to do some soul searching and, after years of denial, I looked myself in the eye, and said, "YOU are responsible for EVERYTHING that has gone wrong in your life. Accept it, and try to fix it."
I think I sound horribly like every self-help book I've ever read! Perhaps it would be pertinent to say that this blog is not only for my own benefit. It's not for ALL of you either. Although, it would be nice to know that it strikes a chord here and there... No, this blog is aimed at one person in particular and they know who they are. I think the reason I have circled around typing this is because I get the feeling that it will fall on deaf ears. No wait, not deaf ears, but SELECTIVE HEARING ears. I'm sure you're all familiar with those types. You can say something over and over but a person will pick out ONE point and that will become their entire focus despite all the other important issues. It's easier to focus on one thing you've done wrong. The alternative, which is having to focus on several at once, is too daunting. These SELECTIVE HEARING types are prime examples of people who can't face their own faults.
That brings us right back to my previous point; being too honest with yourself is very hard. It's easier to kid yourself. If you buy into your own lies, it makes the next step, which is lying to the person in front of you, even easier, because you can justify your actions to yourself, with a lie that you actually believe. Of course, if you're dealing with a person who has been down this road before, then you are in trouble. The chances are good that they will see through you. If not in that specific moment, then in another moment. It will come. Trust me.
There are all sorts of complications attached to lying, to yourself and to those around you. It takes a very smart, quick-witted person, to maintain a lie to another person. It is a delicate balancing act of intricate and astronomical proportions. Picture a house of cards... Now imagine pulling just ONE out. We all know the result. Imagine several lies... I can't even begin to. The thought exhausts me. Seems like a lot of effort for something that is only going to end in disaster. It's slightly different if you are only lying to yourself. You can just deny the issues and stop looking yourself in the eye to make it easier! When you start to involve others in the lie, there are more minds involved and lots of memories tuned into your ONE lie while you are juggling several.
If you do the math and factor in the theory of relativity, the chances are good that YOU are going to drop a ball somewhere and, while you will probably have forgotten the exact details of the lie you told, someone, somewhere, has recalled ALL the details. Often it's not even just someONE, but many people. That would make it even harder to backtrack because it's harder to convince an ENTIRE group of people that they are ALL mistaken and only you, are not.
I'm starting to bore myself! I just think I've talked this to death in so many different circumstances and it still comes down to the same thing: It's easier to tell the truth in the long run, than it is to lie. It means you never have to remember what you said! So why is it so hard, in practice, to be honest? It starts with us. When we start lying to ourselves, we start losing touch with that reality that creates a safe space to just be ourselves, with ourselves, and then, in turn, with other people.
A space is as safe as you want it to be. You create it by giving honesty and trusting that you are going to get it back. The worst thing you can do is to take a safe place, that you and a loved one have created, and violate it with lies. Please don't ever kid yourself that there are bigger and smaller lies. They all leave the same stain on the white wall of a safe place. Have you ever tried to wipe off a stain from a white wall with a damp cloth? It invariably leaves an even bigger stain! You can paint over it again but you will always know that stain is there, it'll just be under cover.
The moral of the story, I think, is to love yourself, faults and all. That means you won't have to lie to yourself and that makes it much easier to be honest with those around you because you know that their opinion is not that important. Why? Because you are perfectly happy with yourself!
This can only benefit you because it will make your world a safe place, not only for you, but for those that take the chance of entering your space and sitting comfortably inside it without fear for their own safe space. When two people can share a safe place and not feel threatened, it is a rare and beautiful thing.
I often wonder how people do that so easily. Just take the chance and let go and simply believe. I used to be able to but experience has convinced me that people are fallible and chances are good that that feeling of bliss and safety can't last. How do you bounce back from it? Maybe you don't. Maybe you just go into the next space more wary. That thought makes me sad though because where can a person just go and feel safe?
I'll tell you where there IS a guaranteed safe space. It's my own space. There is room only for me and, because I am honest with myself, I know there is no chance of discovering some nasty untruths. The boat will never be rocked and my space will never be threatened. That should be a comforting thought, shouldn't it?
Why then, despite my sense of safety, do I feel so empty and alone? That is what happens when a person is forced to lock it down and protect themselves. If you do that to yourself, that is your own choice and your own cross to bear, but if you force another to raise the walls and protect themselves, you may have to consider that it's time to turn your eyes inward and try a bit self analysis.
Look in the mirror, deep into your own eyes, and ask yourself, "What gave me the right to trample on private property, offered to me in love? What twisted part of me thought that I was allowed to leave my muddy boots on, trample betrayal everywhere and foul the air with dirty words? When did I forget that it was a privilege to be there and not mine for the taking?" When you can do that, and answer yourself honestly, then you MIGHT be forgiven.
Until then, I will not paint over the stains you left. I will keep them there, in the open, to remind me of the depth of betrayal and your capacity for dishonesty with yourself and with me. When I'm strong enough, I'll paint over the stains with a fresh coat of bright red and create a new space that you will never EVER be able to invade again.
I will always know the stains are there but that's good because that will be a constant reminder to NEVER let anyone take the offer of a place in my space for granted, EVER again.
I've circled my blog like a wary fighter for days now. I started typing but it felt contrived. I'm still not sure if this will end up getting posted. It depends how honest I can be with myself I guess. I'm a firm believer in honesty; especially with oneself. If you can't be honest with yourself, there's a good chance that you're going to be dishonest with someone else. That's the way I figure it anyway. I always thought it was hardest to be honest with oneself. A lot of you may disagree. Humour me for a moment here.
The person you spend the most time with, is yourself. It stands to reason, then, that you should have a high enough opinion of yourself to be able to stand yourself for long periods! The problem though, is that when you spend a lot of time with anyone, they start to become aware of all your faults and shortcomings. We can therefore safely assume that no-one is more aware of their own shortcomings, than you are of your own and that's a really hard pill to swallow for some! It's a simple step from there, to telling yourself little lies. Is this confusing the hell out of you? Good! It's doing the same to me! I don't really care what point I was trying to get across anymore, but the thing is, if you have a low opinion of yourself, it's going to prove incredibly difficult to still be able to look yourself in the eye and say, "You screwed up!" It's going to be even harder to look someone you love in the eye and say, "I screwed up!"
I guess that's what I'm getting at. It starts with you. That's a hard reality for some. Take me, for example. For reasons that aren't relevant to this blog, I grew up doubting and questioning myself a lot. I had a very low opinion of myself and that meant I made a lot of stupid choices. I admit that now but it took me years to be able to. I wanted to point fingers at everything and everyone else because it was so much easier than admitting the fault was with me. The problem with doing that is that my conscience wouldn't allow me. That meant that I had to do some soul searching and, after years of denial, I looked myself in the eye, and said, "YOU are responsible for EVERYTHING that has gone wrong in your life. Accept it, and try to fix it."
I think I sound horribly like every self-help book I've ever read! Perhaps it would be pertinent to say that this blog is not only for my own benefit. It's not for ALL of you either. Although, it would be nice to know that it strikes a chord here and there... No, this blog is aimed at one person in particular and they know who they are. I think the reason I have circled around typing this is because I get the feeling that it will fall on deaf ears. No wait, not deaf ears, but SELECTIVE HEARING ears. I'm sure you're all familiar with those types. You can say something over and over but a person will pick out ONE point and that will become their entire focus despite all the other important issues. It's easier to focus on one thing you've done wrong. The alternative, which is having to focus on several at once, is too daunting. These SELECTIVE HEARING types are prime examples of people who can't face their own faults.
That brings us right back to my previous point; being too honest with yourself is very hard. It's easier to kid yourself. If you buy into your own lies, it makes the next step, which is lying to the person in front of you, even easier, because you can justify your actions to yourself, with a lie that you actually believe. Of course, if you're dealing with a person who has been down this road before, then you are in trouble. The chances are good that they will see through you. If not in that specific moment, then in another moment. It will come. Trust me.
There are all sorts of complications attached to lying, to yourself and to those around you. It takes a very smart, quick-witted person, to maintain a lie to another person. It is a delicate balancing act of intricate and astronomical proportions. Picture a house of cards... Now imagine pulling just ONE out. We all know the result. Imagine several lies... I can't even begin to. The thought exhausts me. Seems like a lot of effort for something that is only going to end in disaster. It's slightly different if you are only lying to yourself. You can just deny the issues and stop looking yourself in the eye to make it easier! When you start to involve others in the lie, there are more minds involved and lots of memories tuned into your ONE lie while you are juggling several.
If you do the math and factor in the theory of relativity, the chances are good that YOU are going to drop a ball somewhere and, while you will probably have forgotten the exact details of the lie you told, someone, somewhere, has recalled ALL the details. Often it's not even just someONE, but many people. That would make it even harder to backtrack because it's harder to convince an ENTIRE group of people that they are ALL mistaken and only you, are not.
I'm starting to bore myself! I just think I've talked this to death in so many different circumstances and it still comes down to the same thing: It's easier to tell the truth in the long run, than it is to lie. It means you never have to remember what you said! So why is it so hard, in practice, to be honest? It starts with us. When we start lying to ourselves, we start losing touch with that reality that creates a safe space to just be ourselves, with ourselves, and then, in turn, with other people.
A space is as safe as you want it to be. You create it by giving honesty and trusting that you are going to get it back. The worst thing you can do is to take a safe place, that you and a loved one have created, and violate it with lies. Please don't ever kid yourself that there are bigger and smaller lies. They all leave the same stain on the white wall of a safe place. Have you ever tried to wipe off a stain from a white wall with a damp cloth? It invariably leaves an even bigger stain! You can paint over it again but you will always know that stain is there, it'll just be under cover.
The moral of the story, I think, is to love yourself, faults and all. That means you won't have to lie to yourself and that makes it much easier to be honest with those around you because you know that their opinion is not that important. Why? Because you are perfectly happy with yourself!
This can only benefit you because it will make your world a safe place, not only for you, but for those that take the chance of entering your space and sitting comfortably inside it without fear for their own safe space. When two people can share a safe place and not feel threatened, it is a rare and beautiful thing.
I often wonder how people do that so easily. Just take the chance and let go and simply believe. I used to be able to but experience has convinced me that people are fallible and chances are good that that feeling of bliss and safety can't last. How do you bounce back from it? Maybe you don't. Maybe you just go into the next space more wary. That thought makes me sad though because where can a person just go and feel safe?
I'll tell you where there IS a guaranteed safe space. It's my own space. There is room only for me and, because I am honest with myself, I know there is no chance of discovering some nasty untruths. The boat will never be rocked and my space will never be threatened. That should be a comforting thought, shouldn't it?
Why then, despite my sense of safety, do I feel so empty and alone? That is what happens when a person is forced to lock it down and protect themselves. If you do that to yourself, that is your own choice and your own cross to bear, but if you force another to raise the walls and protect themselves, you may have to consider that it's time to turn your eyes inward and try a bit self analysis.
Look in the mirror, deep into your own eyes, and ask yourself, "What gave me the right to trample on private property, offered to me in love? What twisted part of me thought that I was allowed to leave my muddy boots on, trample betrayal everywhere and foul the air with dirty words? When did I forget that it was a privilege to be there and not mine for the taking?" When you can do that, and answer yourself honestly, then you MIGHT be forgiven.
Until then, I will not paint over the stains you left. I will keep them there, in the open, to remind me of the depth of betrayal and your capacity for dishonesty with yourself and with me. When I'm strong enough, I'll paint over the stains with a fresh coat of bright red and create a new space that you will never EVER be able to invade again.
I will always know the stains are there but that's good because that will be a constant reminder to NEVER let anyone take the offer of a place in my space for granted, EVER again.
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