Sparrow, in your last blog entry you referenced Mary Oliver's "Am I Lost":
Am I lost?
I don't think so.
Do I know where I am?
I'm not sure.
Have I ever been happier in my life?
Never.
While I can't tell you how pleased I am that you're feeling this positive, I'm afraid that the second aspect of the poem has me in its grip lately:
Am I lost?
I am lost.
Do I know where I am?
I am lost.
Have I ever been more joyful in my life?
I am lost.
Let me clarify:
The act of creating a blog, Sparrow, has an inherent downfall: it opens you up to public scrutiny. By participating in a blog, I have said to the blogosphere, "Here is my story", and, in doing so, I have inadvertently asked, "What do you think of me?". I knew this would be a consequence when I started writing, Sparrow, And I'm not surprised that I've received some negative feedback. I mean, I left my husband and I tore my family apart to "find myself". I knew that would bring about a negative reaction and I was prepared for that.
What I wasn't prepared for, though, was my own reaction to my first completed blog posting:
"Oh God! What did I do?"
This is my life, Sparrow, my journey that I'm chronicling, yes, but it is also my family's story and a very personal one at that. I left my husband and I'm not foolish enough to believe that my leaving benefited him, or my children, in any way. Leaving him hurt everyone, period. This journaling of mine makes their story public; highlights their pain. Do I have the right to tell that kind of a story? Moreover, do I have the right to discuss something as private and as personal as my youngest daughter's "exceptionalities" as I plan to? Does that story belong to her alone?
I've spent a week mulling over this issue of ownership, Sparrow. I've played with it, turned it head over heels and inside out and what I've concluded is this: In the end, nothing happens in a vacuum so, when my children are hurting because I left their father, that's my story born of my guilt. Again, when the funds that were always there are now cut and strained and I have to start saying no to my children, that's my story as well. When my youngest, who is battling her own demons, falls deeper into a blackness that I can't resolve for her, is that not my story as well as hers because I live with the consequences of it every day? I conclude that I do have ownership, albeit it a shared one, and I have to insist that these are my stories as well as theirs and that my guilt does not negate that fact but, rather, my guilt reinforces it.
So, for now at least, I'm lost, Sparrow. I opened myself up to judgement and I received it from friends and family alike, yes, but mostly from myself. My week of contemplation has shored my resolve to continue sharing my story and claim it as my own because it affects every minute of my days. I'm hoping that, in the end, my family forgives me for my decision. Perhaps I am lost, Sparrow, because I see myself as a woman that needs forgiveness in general and I worry that I don't deserve it. I'll sleep on it and see how I feel another day because, as we both know, I always shake myself off and start again, no matter how emotionally self-indulgent I've been.
Love always, Red Bird
Well said Eric, we are all connected and our actions affect not only ourselves but the people around us. We worry so much about the negative affects but so often what we fear will be negative turns out to be positive. We hold ourselves back because of this fear and restrict our ability to really grasp life and fly free. It seems you are beginning to take flight yourself. I'm happy for you.
ReplyDeleteGuilt and forgiveness...brothers in arms. In the last 12 months, I have contemplated these companions often, for that's how they have been with me. Guilt is shared and heavy, forgiveness enticing and elusive, whether forgiving each other or forgiving ourselves. What I have come to understand is that the path to happiness is not easy or formulaic. Flying free takes courage but may benefit more than yourself Red Bird.
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