There are those battles which are waged in the mind and which sear through to the depths of one's psyche or Spirit. Oftentimes, as is my case, these battles are waged for years. One would think that this constant barrage would make anyone strong, but I suppose that won't be known until the end. Many times I find myself feeling stronger, but that is not always the case.
I have chosen to inscribe in words a little of this struggle, because how else can I truthfully say what is in my heart, if bits and parts of my soul are not visible even to myself. I consider my life a journey, with pit stops and highlights along the way. I guess today I sit on a cliff and stare out in awe at the view and expanse of my life before me.
When I was nine years old, I was 'informed' by a well meaning neighbor of my Grandmother, that my Parents were not my parents. That my Mother was in fact the woman I had known as my Aunt, and whose daughters with whom I had played and cavorted in childhood abandon and known as my cousins- were in fact my Sisters.
I was stunned! Not because the news was so earth shattering, but because My Mother was a woman who had never shown any love or tenderness toward me. At best, she was not even a doting Aunt! Even at such a young age, my heart struggled with the reality I had been shown: I was born an unwanted child. How do you grapple with that when you are a sensitive little human? How do you make the transition from being in blissful ignorance of your beginnings to a knowledge of beginnings unlike those you saw around you: children whose Parents loved them and wanted them. How do you process this information when you are not yet equipped mentally or emotionally to cope with raw truths? Furthermore, this jagged knife piercing through my heart was two-fold. I now knew that the people who I called Parent could never feel the bond that I was certain existed in blood kin. That truth coupled with the fact that those Parents I had known were never particularly doting or loving themselves really threw me a curve ball. I became in essence a puzzle piece tossed, misplaced and forever lost from the original masterpiece.
Fast forward decades- my perception of the truth has remained unchanged. A whole lifetime has transpired, with much of it pretending that many things did not matter, when in fact they did. But being flexible in Spirit is one of the things that has enabled me to remain silent, to remember that once something is spoken, it can never be retrieved. And so it is that little has changed except what I have forged within myself to accept: people make choices in their lives which affect their offspring, but the offspring have no say or fault in the matter. Case closed.
I don't know if there is any value in writing about this struggle. I only hope to run a good race, and finish at the time my Creator decides. The end is yet to be.
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. ~Philippians 4:8~