Shallow Depths*

Deep within

There is a certain part of me

Who stills believes

Life would be so much better

If I’d been born beautiful:

A super model, a movie star

Shallow, I know,

But that part of me’s convinced

Nothing sways her

She doesn’t care that you

Can’t cherrypick and you’d get

All their shit too (and that we all have shit)

She is absolutely sure

To be adored for your looks

Would beat the rest

That being loved for a face or body

Is more than enough for her

And she won’t hear otherwise

This part of me

Would make a deal with a thousand devils

It would sell my soul

For the chance to find out

If life really is better for the super stars and models

I’ve given up trying

To win her over to Self-Love Land

She cannot comprehend adult logic

So I hold her hand

And I say “I hear you,” then lead her into the deeper waters to play

Repost Inspired by The Daily Post Word Prompt: famous

* I am visiting my hometown, and of course, all my “old stuff” is stirred up as if I was right back in high school, feeling so lacking. Back to a time when I based my whole self worth on my appearance. To a time I prayed to become famous so that one day everyone would regret rejecting me. It is amazing how quickly it all comes flooding back.

Soulmate

I’ve been looking for you forever

My sister, my twin

The parts of me who flew away

From the pain that was inescapable

Unendurable

You left

And I went numb

With shock, to survive

And then I forgot

You’d ever existed

And just felt emptiness

Where your life had once filled my heart

I cobbled a self out of what of me remained

And tried to find my way

But when you are missing key parts of your soul

Life always feels like it has not quite begun

So I’ve lived a half life

I’ve been like a ghost

While my real self was in limbo somewhere

And now here I am

Calling all of me back

My doppelgänger come home to roost

I feel my heart fill

I recognize what is at the same time foreign

Like meeting a twin separated at birth

Who I am now makes sense

No more searching the ends of the earth

Inspired by The Daily Prompt Daily Word: doppelgänger

(Thanks to you)

I have been operating under the following assumptions:

That I am plain, average and dull

That I am unmemorable, forgettable

That to surrender to pleasure is a death sentence

That love becomes humiliation overnight

That vulnerability ends in shame

But I am finally reframing these beliefs

I am choosing to find new truths:

I am lovely, unique and vibrant

I am memorable, unforgettable

Pleasure is safe and begets more pleasure

Love always elevates and is never wrong or cruel

Vulnerability is my birthright and there is no shame in it ever

So you see, I got this

(No thanks to you, btw)

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: assumption

Safe

I remember seeing it

“The Boy in the Plastic Bubble”

John Travolta living in a plastic- enclosed world

To keep the germs out

To survive

I felt just the same

Surrounded by plastic

A bubble of my own making

Designed to keep me safe

A way to stay alive

Became a prison of my own design

Like John

I’ve built up my immune system

I’m ready to walk outside

To leave the safety of the bubble

To be in the world once more

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: bubble

Children Will Listen

From a very young age, I could feel what was happening in the adult world around me.

I am not unique. Yes, I am a highly sensitive person. But I believe we all are. I have no way to gauge another’s inner experience – just guessing.

Children have not yet developed the callous that life experience cam eventually create. They are sponges, picking up everything that is going on around them.

Why then do adults tell themselves that their kids “won’t know what is happening” and decide that is is best to “shield them” from “harsh, adult” realities?

There were pivotal events in my childhood that were never explained to me: my mother’s miscarriage when I was 6. My aunt and uncle’s divorce. The fact that my grandfather had had another family before ours. These things were never spoken of. Yet, I felt the energy around them and knew that something was going on.

Left to my own devices, I had no choice but to try to make sense of what I sensed, to piece together what I could as best I could with my emotional immaturity and my limited understanding.

I assumed my mother was dying. I thought she had stomach cancer. When she was taken away to the hospital, I thought it was forever.

When my uncle literally disappeared from our lives, I thought I must have done something to make him leave. I learned that people who you love can leave without reason or notice. I learned abandonment.

And as for my grandfather’s secret other family: my grandparents knew that there was a first wife and a son. They kept it to themselves. Boy, was that a heavy weight.

I could literally feel it in their presence. Their home, a place I loved dearly, always felt slightly “off,” and there was a barely discernible tension whenever the phone rang.

Years later, when the truth came out, my entire world clicked back into its rightful position. Living in the atmosphere of secrets gives added weight to gravity. It creates a denseness to the air one breathes. There is a physical and emotional tension of “readiness” you develop in that environment: you do not know why, but just under the surface you are on high alert, 24/7.

I’ve had to unravel these experiences. It has taken time, patience, professional help and love.

I have a friend who was an active alcoholic for the first years of his kids lives. After he got sober, he refused to consider that they had been affected by his drinking. He felt he’d hidden it well, that he’d been highly functional, had kept it from them.

I don’t know why he had such a blind spot around it. A kind of denial. Maybe it was too painful for him to admit to himself.

Maybe he, my parents, and my grandparents, were all well-intended and thought they were doing the best thing for their children.

Perhaps it was too complicated-feeling for them to try to guide their children through the truth so they opted to keep quiet and hope for the best.

All I know is that children do know – can sense – everything happening around them. And that if adults do not help the children make sense of what they pick up on, they will form their own conclusions about the world that they experience.

The prolific Stephen Sondheim captures this reality beautifully in his song, “Children Will Listen.” The lyrics are below. Here is one of my favorite renditions by the incredible Mandy Patinkin.

Who are your children listening to?

Children Will Listen

How do you say to your child in the night

Nothing is all black but then nothing is all white?

How do you say it will all be alright

When you know that it mightn’t be true?

What do you do?

Careful the things you say

Children will listen

Careful the things you do

Children will see

And learn

Children may not obey

But children will listen

Children will look to you

For which way to turn

To learn what to be

Careful before you say

“Listen to me”

Children will listen

Careful the wish you make

Wishes are children

Careful the path they take

Wishes come true

Not free

Careful the spell you cast

Not just on children

Sometimes the spell may last

Past what you can see

And turn against you

Careful the tale you tell

That is the spell

Children will listen

How can you say to a child who’s in flight

Don’t slip away and I won’t hold so tight?

What can you say that no matter how slight won’t be misunderstood?

What do you leave to your child when you’re dead

Only what ever you put in its head

Things that your mother and father had said

Which were left to them too

Careful what you say, children will listen

Careful you do it too, children will see and learn, oh

Guide them but step away

Children will glisten

Temper with what is true

And children will turn

If just to be free

Careful before you say

“Listen to me”

Children will listen

Children will listen

Children, children will listen

Songwriter: Stephen Sondheim

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: observe

Lush Life

The darkness descended

The blight that you brought to my lands

Soul-grooves

Worn into my heart

Rivulets of salt-tears

Eroded the once-pristine landscape inside

But I’ve started a conservancy

To build my self up again

Renew, rebuild, regrowth

One day, no traces of you will remain on my terrain

And the wind will carry the seeds of my heartlands

To populate fertile fields so that love will spread

And color the world a thousand shades of beautiful

Inspired by The Daily Post Word Prompt; rivulet

Astral Travel

I feel the life drain out of my body

Depleted of my life force, I wane

What has triggered this self-abandonment

Where do I go inside

It feels like part of me just leaves

Drains off into a void somewhere

Leaving behind a shell

My skin hanging over my bones

My mind tangled and blank at once

My breath contained and compressed

The familiar iron wall in my gut

Shut, closed off from the world

Only my breath can bring me back

I breathe, slowly, in and out

I feet the iron wall begin to melt

My brain softens, tight thoughts dissipate

And I feel me begin to fill in

The caverns of my self once again

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: deplete

Home

This real sense of

Being deeply inside

My actual life

(Inchoate as it may be)

Astounds and grounds me

I’ve longed for this

For so long

I may as well

Be living in Paradise

Inspired by The Daily Post Word Prompt: inchoate

The Collective

There is a world within

Where past and future meet

I go there to explore

Hear history in my heartbeat

Everyone that ever was

I am connected to through breath

In future others’ I’ll live on

Long after my body’s death

Inspired by The Daily Post: explore

A Face in the Crowd

For as long as I can recall, I moved through the world certain that I was unmemorable.

As in, never believing, upon meeting people, that I was making any kind of impression whatsoever. Never being able to trust that upon meeting them again, they would recognize me.

I developed the habit of saying my name to whomever I was meeting again, a preemptive coping strategy designed to avoid any potential embarrassment or humiliation in not being remembered by the person.

I do not recall how this underlying belief system was created. I do not know its source.

There must have been an instance or two where I felt embarrassed or humiliated in some way in some situation where I assumed that I would be remembered, and I was not.

Or, is it something genetic in the seeds of my personality that made me incapable of recognizing my own recognizability?

To see oneself as faceless, as lacking any qualities that would make another take mental note in any way of your presence…that is pretty intense thing to discover that you are living from.

When I noticed this, I slowly began to experiment around it to see what was going on. It is complex, but suffice it to say that today I look for social cues that let me in on whether or not someone is putting together that they have seen me before, and then and only then do I offer to help them. (No preemptive helping.) I have had to develop tolerance for the discomfort that that sometimes brings.

I have also had to learn how to give myself inner support around other people in the first place. To not need so much from whether or not they felt anything about me – good, bad or seemingly nothing at all – and let my own opinion count the most. To be my own fan.

I think when you grow up a very sensitive child who learned early on to read other people in order to survive you have to learn some different coping skills. You have to learn how to live from the inside out, instead of the outside in.

I have learned how to “be” in my core. Living from my core, others, and what they think or feel, does not hold any power over my survival. I am in charge, and can take full care of myself.

It has been a freeing process. I am much more comfortable around people and enjoy life so much more.

Do I feel all that memorable today? Not really. Maybe on good day for a half hour.

But I do know I am here. I do not feel faceless. And I love who I am. I have lots of people who love me, plenty of people who care about me, many people who want to work with me, and that’s pretty wonderful.

And hey, if someone doesn’t recall having met me, I do not sweat it. I happily re-introduce myself, and I comfort the small part of me that feels a bit hurt in it.

I am always OK as long as I recognize me.

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: faceless