Cracks in the Foundation

Some days I am surprised by the hurt that still resides inside me.  One minute I am going about my life, living it as best I can.  Then I am blindsided by something small that cracks the veneer. I am caught off guard when the most innocuous comment rips off the tiniest corner of my heart and causes me to bleed that toxin of disappointment and resentment again...that ripe, black cocktail I thought I had finally drained.

Days like this I wonder if our wounded places ever really heal?  We tell ourselves that we have overcome, we have risen above the trespasses against us.  We have constructed a life we live in truth and we can no longer be dragged under the pain of our past. Then, you find out its all still inside you, like something insidious crouching in the corners of your soul.  In that moment, you understand that damage can never be undone, only built upon.  It will always be with you, forever weakening your foundation.

I spent a lot of time traveling in Mexico when I was younger. I visited all the typical tourist places and a few that were decidedly more off the beaten path.  It was the churches that made the most impact on me. I learned that many of Mexico's churches, from the extravagant, gold-trimmed cathedrals to the rustic village chapels, were built on top of indigenous temple and ruins. When missionaries moved across Mexico and began to convert the native tribes and nations, it was common for the new churches to be built directly on top of the tribal holy sites.  It was as if these  missionaries felt they could best eradicate the old deities and pagan beliefs by driving them into the ground.  They thought that by burying them under the shiny new promises of their christian churches and their new, benevolent God, they would cease to exist for the people.

It always struck me these missionaries, bent on converting the people to the new faith, failed to see what they were really doing.  Instead of re-writing the narrative, maybe they were instead, forever trapping the past in the foundations of the future.  In one place, far off the typical tour, one old church's foundation had begun to crumble and the earth had begun yield to the corners of the old pyramid lying underneath.  In one section of the church, the ancient bricks had even been driven up through the floorboards. It struck me that those ruins were not gone, those gods and beliefs, not forgotten. It was all still there, residing under the feet of the believers.  The old gods might all just be waiting, bidding their time to be excavated and brought back again.

It is days like these that I think about those old ruins.   I feel like that sometimes, like that church.  I feel like my shiny life with all its promises and personal gains and achievements, might have just been built on an old temple of wounds.  I wonder if it is there still, just waiting, and slowly poisoning my foundation one tiny, black crack at a time.

The Agony of Certainty

"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"
Day 883 August 8th, 2016
Prompt: What do you think about this feeling of “I should have done better!” in any area? Can it be a positive or negative motivator in some way?


This prompt feels dangerous to me today because despite all my knowledge and effort, the doubts have been hovering just outside my thoughts lately, insidious and seeping. I see him, stumbling across the road, swaying on his feet, the effort to keep himself upright painfully obvious. I see him in my dreams, and all day long as I try to get my work done. I see him and I think, could I have saved him? Can I still? I ask myself the questions and doubt bites raw, bleeding ribbons into my guts.

I think back to the all the chances, to all the opportunities I watched him burn through. I think back to how so many tried to help him. There have been many kind people who have stepped up, who have extended their hearts over the years. I've seen the progress he's made under the right care, promises of a hopeless path digressed and a life renewed. I've been there when he's walked away, back into the darkness again. It is beyond tormenting.

"Should I have done better?" I don't know. I did the best I could the first time I lost someone to the black pit of addiction. I had given so much away, I nearly offered up my own life in the process of trying to save his. I knew it was not something I could bear ever again. No human on Earth should have to suffer through the pain and agony of addiction and loss more than once. It rips out your soul at the roots and breaks your heart in a way that it can never fully heal again. Its a endless wound and scar tissue burns hot with every reminder, with every memory thrust upon you. You never forget and when you see it again, that toxin demon in another, your entire system engages everything it can to protect you from getting sucked down again. For each moment that you search familiar eyes and see the light fading behind the irises, the certainty rises inside you like some terrible tide. And so I ask myself, "should I have done better?" And there is both a terrible doubt and an absolute certainty at the same time and the dichotomy is pure agony.



"Blogging Circle of Friends "
DAY 1363: August 8, 2016
Prompt: Each time the wind blew, she could hear the flowers talking to her. Tell me what the flowers said to her.

The brittle branches above her head bob heavily with the fat, fragrant blooms. She reaches up and traps one in her palm, burying her nose in the tiny purple flowers, breathing deep their perfume. Its a familiar scent that evokes memories of her childhood. She remembers cutting and arranging the lilacs into thick bouquets with her grandmother. She remembers bouncing on her toes under the blooms, tapping the rain from the blossoms with a thin branch and squealing when the water hit her bare shoulders and back. Each year the lilacs bushes would bloom at the edge of her grandmother's property, healthy and full, the higher boughs reaching into the skies three of four feet higher than her head. They had all but died out now, thinned to where they had to be cleared out. She had loved those flowers and when she had driven past the wide wall of lilacs, she hadn't been able to resist going back. She had wanted to touch them, breath in their sweetness. She wanted to reconnect with a part of her past that was simple, fragrant and full of promise.

Blindspotting and New Snow

Today my heart feels so heavy...actually I think the best way to describe it is that my heart feels so weary. There are things in this life that are so demoralizing that they leech the hope right out of your bones. I have a unique and unfortunate perspective on dealing addiction, on dealing with an addict who is also a family member or loved one. The helplessness and sense of desperation of someone attempting to understand and process that type of situation, resonate with me deeply. I literally feel their pain, all the way to my soul. I've been there. Its hell on Earth and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy let alone someone I love. I know my words of advice may sound calice. I know I don't sound like someone who has compassion - but I do, in spades. It is just that I have been there, and barely made it out with my life. Trying to save someone who refuses to help themselves is like standing in quicksand in steel toed boots, or trying to put out a burning inferno with a silo cup of water. You can put in all the effort, all the love, all the fight you have at your disposal...and it doesn't matter. It doesn't mean we ever stop loving the addicts in our lives, or hurting for them, but we have to be strong in our hearts and in our conviction that we can not control their lives, that we are not responsible for their lives - only our own. An addict will wound you because they know your love for them will allow you to rip those wounds open time and time again, without ever healing...and one day you wake up and realize you've nearly bled out from trying, from caring, from loving. This is a difficult path and there are very cruel lessons to be learned. My heart is heavy because I know the burden, I know that self-doubt and that fear and that heartache. I know how it is to feel your spirit breaking off at the edges. I can only pray for you to have strength to do the things that need to be done, the things that seem heartless when you want to love so badly. I'm a bit distracted today but I've got to give my daily prompts a go...


"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"
Day 855 -- July 11, 2016
It is said that everything outside our warm, safe circle is our blind spot. Do you sometimes think that you are blind to what’s in front of your eyes or that your subconscious has blocked something from your immediate knowledge of it?

Once upon a time, I think I did have a blind spot but fortunately my own personal trials have granted me a well-earned "eyes wide open" view. I'm a skeptic at heart now. I tend to always assume the worst and hatch a Plan B before I even know if I'll need a Plan A. My default setting is just two ticks shy of always have a contingency plan or escape hatch.


"Blogging Circle of Friends "
Day 1335: July 11, 2016
Prompt: Which season inspires you the most? Why does this season inspire you?

There is something about new fallen snow that inspires me. Waking to it first thing in the morning is like getting a do-over. The world looks for pristine and bright. It can be very beautiful. There is a stillness to new snow that always brings me peace.