It’s a gray day here.
Spitting rain, on and off.
It feels tremendously refreshing.
I spent part of the morning in my handsome claw foot tub,
soaking with salts,
sipping green tea
Of all the Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt not murder” always seemed to me the one I would have to worry least about, until I got old enough to see that there are many different kinds of death, not all of them physical. There are murders as subtle as a turned eye. Dante was inspired to install Satan in ice, cold indifference being so common a form of evil.
[Anne Truitt:::Daybook]
I sat and soaked and remembered:
When I was in kindergarten or first grade, living in Riding Mountain National Park, Manitoba, Canada, I had a long bus ride to and from school every day. One day, Curtis S. was burning the back of a bus seat with a lighter. I had never witnessed vandalism before and couldn’t help but stare. He looked up, caught me watching him and said,
“If you tell Russel [the bus driver], I will set your hair on fire.“
Because I was practically an infant at the time, I believed him.
I remember knowing that there was no one around to protect me.
From that day forth, each time I stepped onto the school bus, I felt a degree of fear.
It was my first memorable taste of human cruelty
and certainly not my last.
________________________________________________________
I sometimes wonder what part of me died that day.
I sometimes wonder what parts of me have been murdered, over the years, and is there a chance of regeneration?
As a fallible human, I wonder what parts of others I have killed,
knowingly and unknowingly.
Will there ever be a chance for atonement
and if there were,
could we ever grant each other that chance?
Recently, I repeat myself:
The light and the dark.
The sum of living.
The nature of humans.
The hope of redemption.
The goodness of mercy.
It’s all beautiful.
I had to call the police yesterday
because of a dash of domestic dispute on our street.
I wasn’t in a panic.
I was relatively calm, at least on the outside.
I quietly asked to remain anonymous with my report
and then stepped back outside to finish hanging the wet laundry on the line.
Farley, sensing something amiss, stayed at my hip whining quietly,
pushing his wet nose into the palm of my hand.
That mother
screaming at her daughter.
Her daughter screaming back.
The swearing.
The threats.
How many little pieces of person
died there yesterday,
fell to the asphalt,
puddled there, still and wispy as a dream?
Will there ever be a chance for atonement?
I’m in the white room this afternoon (which is such a symbolic space for me),
working on thresholds,
building my idea of the liminal.
The work is good.
The tea is hot.
All is as whole as whole can be.
Great honest post. May we all have our tongues seasoned with salt. May we all know the power of words and may we use them to build up rather than tear down. And, because we fail, may we all understand the enormous power of forgiveness; both for ourselves and others.
Amen.
Beautiful, true, and well said. You speak for so many people. So much can be broken, burned, damaged with a single sentence, that can take years or lifetimes to rebuild, if ever.
Forgiveness is key to rebuilding, what ever the situation. Forgiveness of yourself, forgiveness of others. Without it, there always remains barriers and walls.
Hmm, as soon as I read the quote, I had little clue of where you were going with it. So many times I wonder the same, and I believe we do experience many deaths, maybe some are meant to be, so we can rebuild but there seems to be more unnecessary ones.
Your words are as beautiful as your soul's curiosity, I adore your blog so much.
i believe with all of my soul that there is always chance for atonement…though not necessarily in the 'classical' sense that forgiveness is granted and a 'knitting together' of hearts can occur….many times this is the case…but there are also forms of atonement that require walking that path solo….wherein the healing is brought by pouring what is needed into another soul, another situation…sometimes wounds cut so deep, forgiveness can be granted, but paths, for our hearts sake, need to diverge….atonement is always available…but it can take a myriad of forms….I think whats important is to choose to walk that path, and it is a choice that is ALWAYS available to us…
so sorry if I am not making sense here…looooong show today out in the sun…:)….lovely and gracious post Plumie!
Excellent, excellent post!!!
I think I've died and been reborn thousands of times. I'm surprised each time.
Sometimes I ponder the hurts aimed at my person… then I wonder what hurts I've caused others.
I'm sure at times or many times I've not had the faintest clue that I've stepped over someone's feelings or thoughts.
I really love this post. It's beautiful, true, seering. xo
wow. a little bit of everything my soul needed this afternoon: heartfelt reminders of the interconnectivity of life and how we all impact others, the grace and power of forgiveness, the beauty of the simple and the real, and the inspiration to use all of that to create something in a tangible form. you get it. beautiful inside and out.
the little critter in your first photo reminded me of a most fascinating destination that we visited earlier this month. perhaps you've been to deyrolle, but if not put it on the list for your next visit to paris and just check out their website for now:
http://www.deyrolle.com/magazine/
this post is why i have cleared inches of bookshelf space in preparation for the book(s) you will write. i'm ready. xoxo
As someone who has been on the tear-stained, devastated end of those types of screams, I thank you for making the call. I know it takes courage and respect.
This post you share is intimate and beautiful and full. It's telling and touching. Thank you for writing it.
dear friend:
"is there a chance of regeneration?"
take it from someone who has died many small deaths from childhood through my 40s….regeneration is most definitely possible.
thank you for the reminder that i have murdered parts of others with my wicked forked tongue.
may i be more aware, now and forward into my life.
xx
Word.
Thank you for this post. I come from a very volatile family and endured many forms of abuse from my parents, namely verbal. I have thoughts like these and have yet to be able to put them down on paper. I'm just starting to explore these thoughts and my experiences in my art work. I'm on the brink of finding out if there is a way to rebuild. So far, there is hope.
In shamanic cultures it is believed we lose parts of our soul, through tragedy, shock, the unspeakable…and sometimes simply by a careless word spoken to a young vulnerable soul.
And through sacred ritual it is also believed that these soul parts can be retrieved, and the shaman, holding our hand, can help us find them.
I find magnificent beauty and hope in such a belief.
So well written, love.
for some reason, I often get to the end of your blog posts and I want to sing an amen,
like the faint chant of choristers in a dusty church,
or the sway and bend of branches in a forest –
you bring one the melodic, contemplative in me.
You paint the picture of yourself on the bus with that boy so well, it breaks my heart. It's so sad that for many of us, we are broken at such a young age. Makes me think about how great it is to have people in our life that love us and protect us or at least help us lick our wounds.
As always, your words are uplifting and honest.
Forgiveness is always a possibility. But bear in mind that 1)forgiveness doesn't mean having a relationship, because sometimes that would be intolerable, and 2) it's much easier when both parties are still alive. There is something about hearing a voice and looking into someones eyes that helps the process immeasureably. When you try to forgive a dead person, it's a one-way conversation. Moral: Do it now. You'll feel better, they'll feel better (even if the rift is not healed) and you may not have another chance.
One of my best friends is known for saying: "You need to love that person, but you don't have to like them."
I agree with both your notions here.
I think I'm more apt to tear down, murder bits of my own soul than that of others,(though surely I've degraded bits others) for I know my own weaknesses and faults better than anyone. I strive to be more gentle with, and understand myself, my inner person, that I may be more gentle and understanding of others. Thank you for you honest words, you inspire.
Having rode that awful bus with you and after you left – all those boys still make me cringe when I see them now. I remember Corry L. throwing a thick high school sized math text book at the back of my head. I ignored it and kept looking straight ahead. But when he picked it up and threw it again even harder, I turned around (which we were NEVER supposed to do) and looked all those scary boys right in their mean faces and told them not to ever do that again (with some choice words thrown in for good measure…). It's hard to believe but both Curtis S, and Corry L. have little girls of their own now. Maybe someday they'll come crying to they're Daddy's about a mean boy at school…..but for the little girls' sakes I hope not…Now that I'm older and know more about life and people, I think those boys must've had really hard and terrible home lives to think that treating other people like that was fun or okay. I hope they' teach their kids different.
ps – my fav quote about forgiveness is: "Forgiveness means giving up the hope that the past could be any different…"
Oh that white light!!!! What a fabulous space, the creative mind must feel so free in there…inspired by your favorite trinkets, but open to the possibilities that abound in such an airy space. I want to lay down on the floor, eyes wide open and soak it all in!
Jenn! Oh my gosh! How did our hearts and souls and bodies survive it???!!!!!!! Love you girl. I've come to the same conclusion about those boys:) xx
There is so much wisdom in these comments, thank you ALL for taking the time to be here. xx
What Ketra said; what everybody said. That was an eloquent, searching, wise post, and evoked the same in response. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" came to mind, but the matter goes much deeper than that. It involves not just toughening, but also regeneration (cf. Pencilfox), which can occur in unexpected ways. Thanks for this, J, especially now.
x
Dear friend and sister, thank you.
x
this post is so soothing today.
I like to think regeneration is always possible. Maybe we are all part starfish 🙂
xo
HA! Starfish! True. x
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Thanks again to all you wonderfuls who left a comment on this post. You are SO appreciated!
I believe we all have those small deaths from childhood on. Some more than others, but we all have it in common. They haunt us, the pain never completely fades, but it
makes us who we are.
Each and ever painful experience has formed me into the person I am today. I attribute my compassion for others to the little pieces of myself that were lost. For this, I'm grateful.
Regeneration and atonement are intertwined. There's always, ALWAYS hope.
xo
D: I think you're right. You know, something that has helped me get over recently inflicted hurts is the realization that the people who have hurt ME have been hurt by OTHERS. Doesn't that dissolve your anger and hurt? Just realizing that simple fact? I know when I realized this, I felt saturated with compassion. Compassion for humans. Compassion for ALL. Compassion for myself and my own failings.
Hanging onto my bruises and hurts seems to me like an action rooted in ego. The world needs less ego. The world needs more love.
I'm working on carrying forgiveness in my heart and soul, even if the apologies never come because I would want others to do the same for me, if I hurt them and didn't or couldn't make amends.
love you, girl. just that, and nothing more. my heart swells to think we've already exchanged so many words (in person, even!) in this healing conversation. keep on speaking those healing words to the world, to those who hurt, to yourself, to me. they never get old.
Yes, dear heart, I agree with you completely. What a world this would be if everyone had such compassion!
Have I told you lately that I love you? 😉
xo
P.S. Oh my goodness, I adore your white room! It makes me happy when I look at it.
The roots in the milk bottle photo. Beauty.
Love the old Smith Corona….
Wow, I had this exact conversation with a friend only the day before your post.
"Is there a chance of regeneration?"
Isn't that the question!
I LOVE your thoughts on this.
If we live in the moment, truly, will it help I wonder… but even in the moment we are still the sum of our experiences, deaths and births of spirit…
I keep comin back and reading through this one… it's a subject that shakes me.
XOXO thank you for eloquently putting many of my thoughts into words.
i treasure this post jillian!
and the comments are fantastic to read too….
i am so touched and uplifted by your honesty, the world needs souls like you my dear friend!
–
i LOVE your white room!
found some new "jillian tea" in my
favourite tea store the other day.
xx
Sometimes I like to read a post two or three times just to let the words roll over my skin and seep into my pores.
This was one of those times.
LOVE you.
Thank you all again for your input in this comment section, for your encouragement and for just being generally lovely human beings! Love having you in my world! xx
such beautiful thoughtful reflections, as always.
Are we not always dying and being born;shedding our old skins and growing into new ones.
A most wonderful movie on this living and dying into ones self is Marion Woodman: Dancing in the flames.
I do believe you would love it.
J: Yup. We're always changing. I change every hour, every day, every week…….
I can't go back…I'm not who I was.
🙂
xx