As I get older, I get this sense more and more that life, the one we are living right now is really quite empty. The older I get the more I am aware of the fact that I am not whole, that there are pieces of me missing. As my incompleteness weighs heavy on my mind I continue to walk through the days. The breaths I take are sometimes without relief. My desire to move to a new place throbs in my skin. Yet i feel some invisible force holding me here, at least for now. When I perceive the hold, I'm reminded of the fact that truly, I don't live where I was meant too. No matter where I go here in this place, I will always feel like leaving again, because I can never be in the place I'm really supposed to be here in this life. And so i come back to hope, mostly I live there. Though at times it dims and slips out of focus. I think that would be why we need each other, we need each others sight sometimes to see the hope, which, if I recall will be something that will remain. (Faith, hope, love)
How had I come to believe, that the deep things of my heart and mind were not important? Who told me they didn’t care about the things I was feeling or thinking about? The truth of the matter was, that no one actually said I don’t care about what you think or feel, they just never bothered to ask. Never being asked is another way to let someone know that they are not valued. In response to some of the most important people in my life not bothering to pursue my young heart and mind, I believed I had nothing to offer or give that would be of any value to anyone else. I believed I was stupid. I heard it over and over in my heart and head with out a second of doubt of its truth. Not until my twenty sixth year did the truth that I believed about myself reveal it’s self as a lie. There were six of us who met each week, five younger women and our leader, a woman the five of us had approached to ask if she would be willing to let us learn from her and be mentored and guided ...
Comments