I am in a room surrounded with many mirrors on all sides and at every angle. I have no choice but to see myself, a myriad of reflections in thousands of different pieces, the collective of which form the whole. The mirrors are magic; they reflect image and the heart, past and present. They reflect a lifetime of regrets, of pain, of joy, of love, of choices and paths. In order to see myself I must see each and every reflection. I can close my eyes to shut it out, but I cannot stay long in the dark. I must face the mirrors and look deep into the stories and find truth and meaning in it all.
It was a very difficult day. A co-worker has a third occurance of cancer. It grew rapidly in a week. My son dated her daughter. It is too close to home with what is going on in my life. My son has called and excused himself out of Christmas altogether. I don't know why, but I suspect it comes from a place of fear, addiction, shame, and avoidance. How does one exist amoungst the canned Christmas carols and crowds? I cannot bring myself to write out cards, or make cookies for the kids.
I tear myself away from my reflections now and again to meet a friend, and seek something to pour myself into. I try and maintain humor, but sometimes I don't want to be humorous. Often I go to the place where noone can find me. Only the muse of creativity is welcomed to visit and I greet her with great reverence.
My readers, I am sorry for such a difficult post. But along with my humor and my joy comes my pain. It is a complex synthesis of emotion. But I would not have it any other way.
In love, Patti