edited: Friday, September 03, 2010
By The Poetess
Rated "G" by the Author.
Posted: Wednesday, March 31, 2010
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This article longs to touch the heart of every family.
by The Poetess (SRP)
When I look at our troubled world, it appears that the only way we are going to fully heal it is to bring more Love and stability into its foundation - into the places where humanity learns morals, values and compassion - into our families. Within our families we look for the kind of Love that would never aim to hurt us, hold us back, or put us down. With in our families we look for comfort during times of grief, and support in the process of becoming the wonderfully unique individuals we all are. We need our families to be our places of refuge - our safe sanctuaries. Families can't be perfect. But we need them to be mostly safe, kind and supportive, in order for us to grow into healthy adults. Its sad that too many of our families seem to be lacking the depths of these virtues. And I feel certain that there are far more secretly troubled families than most of us realize, in EVERY class of society. Perhaps many of us do not even know how wounded our own families are. Denial is a powerful thing! And within many families there seems to be a silent rule which says, "it's not OK to face or talk about the damaging things that happen to us within our families." Protecting the reputation or appearance of the family is often more important than being honest and healthy. And this can be extremely damaging, even in the mildest situations.
We need to be able to freely express what has hurt us. We need to be able to freely share our feelings and painful experiences. We need to break the silence and embrace our pain, without people looking down upon us or our families for it. And we need to do this without our families labeling us as, "negative", "delusional" or "insane" just because they don't want to face their own mistakes. It needs to be OK for us to feel and express our feelings, no matter who's involved. But none of this is about judging our families. Its about striving to make things better - its about healing - its about bringing more Love into our world.
Through my efforts to try to understand why my own parents treated me as badly as they sometimes did, I grew to realize that, within each of their hearts was a wounded child who needed an outlet for the pain they'd carried into their adult lives. My parents must have had extremely painful childhoods. And perhaps they passed on what they were taught, without even realizing the damaging effects. The people who hurt us, without intending to, deserve as much compassion as we do. We are all learning and growing in this troubled world. And This is why its so important for us to face what we feel hurt by, even if it breaks some dysfunctional rules, because this what will help it to improve.
We often keep the skeletons tucked in our closets, because we want to remain loyal to our family members, or because we are ashamed of their behaviors. Our own shame seems to keep us silent more than anything else. None of us want to be looked down upon or judged by our fellow human beings or family members. As I share parts of my childhood in my writings I sometimes feel afraid that people will judge me or think less of me because of the problems within my family, even though EVERY family has its own share of problems, and even though I know that those who leap to point fingers and pass judgment are the ones who have the biggest problems. NO family is perfect. So, I work at putting my own shame and fear aside, because, from a much higher perspective, all the pains I'd gone through in my childhood brought me to this point where I share my feelings with others and hope to help our future become a safer place for children to grow up in. I wrote the following poem. "Child I Used to Be" in the late 1980s, as I did some deep "inner child" work - as I faced parts of my childhood, which I'd previously forgotten and suppressed. When we stop hiding and denying it, we start healing it.
Child I Used To Be
by The Poetess (SRP)
On a lonely summer day I sat at the forest's edge
Feeling the impact of life's hard lessons,
When she came to me, a mere child of three,
In soiled, worn-out clothes and hair of honey gold.
I stared at her in wonder - taking in all I could see,
Realizing that she was. . .the child I used to be.
I thought my eyes deceived until she began to speak -
Glaring at me with big brown eyes, as tears ran down her cheek,
"You spend your life searching but don't remember and see,
That I have been here waiting for you to return to me.
You ran away and forgot the great plans we had for you -
The joyful games we'd play and magical things we'd do."
She sat on the ground rubbing her cold, bare feet
Crying, "You didn't take me with you
To the people we were to meet!
You forgot the castles we were to build in the sand,
And not once did you try to hold my little hand!"
She bowed her head, declaring with a sigh,
"And worst of all, you forgot how to laugh and cry!"
My heart filled with sadness. I knew she was right.
I'd left her to grope alone on a cold and dreary night.
In over twenty years did not return or ever even try
To find the child I cast away. . .for the pain I hid inside.
I reached for her shaking hand and asked if she'd forgive,
While making a sincere promise that together we would live.
She climbed into my lap, where we held each other and cried
Until joy was what was left of the pain we felt inside.
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