Trigger warning: Suicide & Sexual Abuse
Life has been extremely and beautifully busy lately. Usually, I would not pair those two words together--busy and beautiful--mainly because over the years, I have found that rest produces better outcomes than busyness...
I still believe that.
Nevertheless, the busy that I have been digging into includes some of my favorites: designing, creating, family, good meals and wine, friends, and nature!
This means, however, that my routine, which includes a morning conversation and writing session with God, has shifted. Instead of blogging in a diary-like entry way, God has asked me to take on the form of poetry.
I love poetry because it follows the theory of "less is more." This is a theory that I have had a hard time grasping as a soul with complex and profound knowings that she does not know how to explain in a few sentences.
I have tended to lean on words my whole life to describe my complex emotions and thoughts but sometimes there are no words. I am realizing that silence speaks volumes.
To be honest, sometimes explaining myself drains me. This is why talk-therapy sessions just never seemed like a good fit for me to heal but I am still open to the idea.
With poetry, I am challenged to share something so profound in as few words as possible. I like this because I think sometimes too many words distort true meaning. On the flipside, not saying enough and talking without a directive leaves us in the dark of our own wandering assumptions.
Words are both my friend and my enemy.
Today, I would like to share a poem I wrote & dive deeper into it's meaning. These poems are inspired by Jasmine S Higgins poetry prompts on Instagram. We are given a single word for each day that we use to form a poem.
Today's word was "spineless."
I wrote this poem from the perspective of myself as a baby ready to take conception in my mother's womb--praying that God would form me with His strength.
I truly believe that my soul knew upon incarnation that my internal life was not going to be easy and therefore, I was going to need a strength above my own. [The truth is, everyone needs a strength above their own. ]
I say "my internal life" because lately, I have been realizing that most of the pain I have endured has been burried within, which has forced me to open up and to let myself be seen fully. It is harder than I thought to let myself cry in front of another.
Let me explain. I believe that, for the most part, we cannot actually see the pain people have endured or are going through. However, I do believe that some pain is more detectable than others because you are able to connect an experience to the reason they might be in pain or grief or wallow.
For example, when we witness someone lose a loved one, we are able to make a connection: I see their loved one died, now they are grieving.
When I was a teacher, some of my students had parents who were in prison or abandoned them. The connection: I see they are without a parent and now they are acting out/struggling/seeking attention.
I did not really have an "outer factor" reason for my pain. My parents both loved me endlessly. I had an older sister who looked out for me. Our financial status was stable from my parents working hard...
To the outsider, it must have seemed like "This girl has never faced pain at all."
Mental health is an internal struggle that while sometimes shows on the outer, it is often deeply overlooked. I have struggled my whole life to explain my chaotic feelings. I did not tell anyone I was sexually abused when I was a tween until my mid twentys--so I carried that pain internally for so long, unable to process and invisible in my suffering. I wanted to escape it because I saw no other way out of it but for God to take my life.
God designed my internal compass in a complex way. I used to hate my mind, soul, and my body because they never seemed to know how to work together. It almost felt like I was walking around without a spine my whole life--shriveled up, deeply within myself in profound ways but never able to unravel.
I have been learning to stand up tall, to be direct, and to face the conflict straight ahead. I have seen some walls this week with Christ that I was not able to see with myself alone. Boy, those walls were thick. With God's strength, I am able to gently dismantle the wall and with each of those dismantling moments, the concept of me becomes more open.
"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
To read more of my poems, follow @creations.wellness on instagram!