The
other day I was going through a box of pictures. Pictures can be difficult for me because the
second they are taken, everything can change.
Still, I wanted to send some to my step daughter and went into the task
with the mindset that it would only take a few minutes. I came across the above photo quite by chance
as it was in a folder and I simply opened it.
It gave me pause. Like a time
traveler I sat on the floor of my walk-in closet suspended in a portal of
sorts. I’m not sure how much time went
by, but I carefully closed the folder, picked up the pictures that I had
gathered for Jen, and went about my day.
Oh but the seen can never be unseen, can it? A day or so later around 2AM, in a lucid dream,
this came out…
The
girl in that pic was trying to hold it all together, trying to hold herself together. She was riddled with doubt; of love, of
herself, of everything. The only joy coming through in that time and space was
that of the children.
The
girl in that pic had no idea of the fire that lay dormant; a tartan gift of DNA
– a strength that would be summoned one day.
In her soul, that girl stood barefooted on a rocky crag in the shallows
of an ancient sea. The fine salted
sprays would mist her freckled face and gently rouse a sleeping warrior.
The
girl in that pic had not a clue that she could battle for the children as
fiercely against the man she had loved just as fiercely the day she created
them with him.
The
girl in that pic didn’t see the derailment coming, did not understand that she
was already prepared in ways she couldn’t believe existed. She didn’t yet see the decisive bargaining she
would do with her soul on a Jewelers mat, her dusty gems laid before her on a
velvet pillow ready to be sold. She didn’t
yet expect the stirring of inner wisdom that was to come as she realized there wasn’t
a price to be had for such treasures.
She didn’t see her hand as she scooped them back into her pockets,
knowing she would take them to the grave.
She hadn’t yet decided that she could not be haggled and purchased.
The
girl in that pic could never have imagined the toil, the work, the lessons that
lay ahead. She had never prepared for
the course of learning to care for oneself and two other little souls. Overtime they would not just be her children;
they would be known as her cosmic
responsibility – one that she would take very seriously. She couldn’t imagine she would work by day and
provide, and then work and again domestically to cook and clean and pay
attention, for she would intrinsically understand that attention was very important
with these souls. And that in her future
she would come home exhausted, fearing
nothing left to give them . She would take a moment, close the bathroom door
and stand before the mirror, then look into her own eyes and whisper, “Crisy,
pay attention, this is the important time.” And she would face them refreshed.
The
girl in that pic could not see the example she would set as far as education
was concerned – did not realize then that in 10 yrs time her own words would be
echoed back to her; ‘Mom I want something for myself, I know I need an
education.’
The
girl in that pic couldn’t dream of the navigation that would ensue to keep
little men from mis-stepping. Attention
to friends, situations, influences, and thoughts, as constant as the tide and
then the day she would be relieved of this duty as they would watch out for one
another.
The
girl in that pic couldn’t fathom gulping down panic attacks while trying to
smile, or the insomnia that would plague her like a dark unwelcome guest. And when she did sleep she would have the
same dreams over and over and over, each time running forward while terror
nipped at her heels.
The
girl in that pic didn’t know her future, soon to be past; the moment it was
realized would present itself as a tangles ball of string that would slowly be
sorted. She didn’t know of the
repressive visions that would come without refuge in sight. The civil rights that were impinged on, that only
became clear in their gravity as time moved forward. She couldn’t see herself as strong, only
scared. Outwardly she smiled. Inside she was a running cacophony of musical
horror.
The
girl in that pic walked blindly forward into her life, into herself, with only
the intuitive energy of her ancestors and the angels guiding her.
The
girl in that pic could not see herself twelve years in the future looking down
at that photo. She did not yet know the
mature, capable, grateful and humble woman she would evolve into. The woman who would run her fingertips over
that photo in a gesture of love and whisper, “I remember you.” She would not have been able to conceive that
twelve years in the future she would have a strong ally that she would meet;
someone who would admire her for the strength that she (at that time) was
unaware of. A future self that would
forgive her mistakes, pray her through insomnia, and love the children that
became men.
The
girl in that pic didn’t feel loved and couldn’t comprehend that somewhere in
her tomorrows, she already was. She didn’t
know, couldn’t possibly see that it would be SHE who would reassure herself and
look upon herself twelve years down the line.
She didn’t know, while frozen in that picture, that moment, that
mindset; that it would be her own hand extending kindness and love, her own
hand that would reach through to bring her home. It would be her own voice, older, wiser, that
would whisper through tears of Self Love, “You did everything right, because we
are still here, and look at these boys…It all turned out just fine, better than
fine. You did a great job, I’ve got this
now My Love…
And
by the way my darling, the answer you were searching for is YES – It was worth
it.”
Namaste.
