...and definitely not fair.
In his cluttered office, Tom looked at me over the books piled up on his desk and reminded me just how important it is for me to have my space. It was only my second therapy session with the Police Department employed negotiator, and I could tell why this man was in so many respectable positions.
I didn't have to tell him a single thing about me in order for him to truly see me.
Trigger was called out, and the flood gates opened.
My childhood memories start when I was around 8 - my favorite number, The sideways infinity symbol. The year I finally got my own space. The memories are few and far between, so it's no surprise I don't spend much time thinking about my past, but leave it to Tom to hit me with the "space" button.
I had almost forgotten that I didn't have a room growing up - hell, I barely had a house, and definitely not a home. Between the open beams, holes in the floor where the heat came out, and piles of hoarded infestation, even finding a space to rest my head was a toss between the couch, my parent's bed, or a shared room with pedophiles.
My room was an unfinished linen closet.
Memory blockages aside, I know I've never been much of a runner in my life - but boy would you think that closet taught me how to hide. The only things I have ever hid from were those that I knew without undeniable doubt, were dangerous. Maybe it helped me learn that hiding was necessary, though, because that closet positively gifted me with the ability to sit with myself.
I was always alone. and that's how I survived.
If you asked little me how I felt about my life at the time, I wouldn't have had any feelings expect the knowledge that I couldn't wait to not be trapped.
I had to learn how to not be trapped in my own skin, or there wouldn't have been any air to breathe.
It wasn't until I was an adult that I have realized just how much has been withheld from me. A lifetime of feelings.
Feelings I have come to learn in powerful, repressed waves, but with gratitude relentlessly reigning as King. The ability to find gratitude when you're forced to create air to breathe is a gift I will spend the rest of my long life exploring.
As much as gratitude is a gift, it is not a golden ticket from experiencing the full effects of the lessons life continues to teach. Which is why I am so grateful one of Tom's honorable positions puts him in my presence.
He said,
"When shit hits the fan and you don't feel like you belong anywhere in this world, where do turn?"
Nature.
Next time your heart wants to complain... let it. Take it to nature and allow yourself to feel like the human you are. There are infinite facets that make you, YOU. Just like nature, you are raw. If nature can persist in this world, so can you.
The world hurts. There are times it is fair, times it looks not-so-fair... but in the end, it's silly.
Silly because we are all out here dying every second and looking for finite answers to infinite questions.
When all it comes down to, is love
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