There are times when life bucks you off like a green broke mustang. Something happens and you find yourself on the ground, curled in a ball, knocked out. Time seems to pass by without notice. As time passes and you begin to come to again, the world is blurry. The landscape of your path has changed. As you lie there trying to focus, it is first yourself you focus on, then the things and people that are closest to you who come into focus.
The people who love you are standing, hovering over you, afraid to touch you in fear of making any injuries worse. If you reach out in search, you feel them close. Reach out with your heart and you feel their pain and fear. They love you so they take your hand and hold on tight, grounding your reality. Tears slide down their face, your own tears of pain and fear leaving muddy tracks down your own cheeks. These wonderful, loving people sitting on the ground and waiting for those moment when your eyes open and a flicker of clarity shines.
So, two years, eleven months and twenty-eight days ago I got bucked off that wild stallion called life. No, I have not given up, nor have I laid down to die. I have been alive and trying to find the clarity in my life’s path.
I remember my friend asking long before my Daddy passed from the living into the realm of the spirit what I had planned. I laughed and instantly replied that I would probably end up curled in a ball on her floor somewhere. Her home was my safe place when all things seemed lost. It was a place of deep peace and love. I told her this because I knew that losing Dad would rock my world to it’s very foundation but I also told her this for I didn’t want to go into to detail the extent of just why and how bad it would rock me. I didn’t know and I couldn’t fathom really. I did not end up curled there but to my surprise, I did seem to have ended up in the fetal position on the inside.
As many protective walls as I have built for my own emotional, spiritual, and physical protection over the years, nothing could compare to the walls that went up in the year that followed. I pushed the world as far away as I could, including those people that I love. I blocked out all emotion. Now for most people that doesn’t sound like such a big thing, but for someone that relies on the spirit world for support as much as the physical world it is. My family and friends were correct in standing beside me waiting patiently as to not hurt me more. They let me reach out as I could and were always there but yes, I was teetering on the brink of being coherent. The universe itself seemed to be the only source of peace in my heart and mind, the snippets of nature were my temple. It was in those moments of climbing over rocks, through streams and exploring my new surroundings that I was lucid. It took those times for me to not lose hope, love, and my faith. In fact, it took all this happening for all those things to be strengthened. I turned to the inside of my heart, my soul, and my own mind to find myself. Sometimes it takes many hours, days, weeks of solitude with the Creator to heal the broken parts. To be quiet and listen, learning the lessons in life that have to be.
I had given up on myself, my dreams, my own hopes and desires many moons ago. So when Daddy passed into the spirit world, I spiraled out of control. I had spent twenty years taking care of everyone else. Living a life that was only for others. Raising Kristen, taking care of my parents, their businesses, my own business, and John. I had given up ever having a life that I could call my own. All with in a time frame of 5 or 6 years, Kristen became an adult and began her own life, Mother passed into the spirit world, I closed both of my parents businesses, closed my business for the most part, watched as my Daddy passed, and watched John’s health decline drastically. When I looked up, all that seemed to be left was myself. I had no clue what to do or where to turn.
I moved to Austin in hopes that the medical community could help John get better, or at least stabilize him. I needed help in taking care of him and I needed time to think. Time to heal. I needed to get past the fear that conquered my heart and soul. All four of us living in an apartment with no privacy, with no space of our own took its toll. It was like it represented how I felt. Trapped in a tiny box with no escape. No real future and no prospects of my goals and dreams. The fear that had stopped me in my tracks was in the most part because I had no future. The apartment mirrored my life view, confined, stuck, donminated by things that were beyond my control. Slowly, very slowly, I began to see which things were really out of my hands and which things just appeared to be. I began to sort through my feelings, my emotions, and my thoughts, seeking a new and yet amazing path to start again. I learned and I listened to the energies of the universe.
I have learned to take control of my own life. That there is no helping others if I can’t help myself. In the past year, it has been as if I needed to learn things, feel things, and know things in a hurry. Like being on the merry-go-around when you are a little kid and the older kids are pushing it too fast. The Creator said, clean out your house and trust that I will provide. Get rid of all the baggage and let me take the reins. So, I began. The apartment I learned was going to play a big roll in this. Great big stuff….little bitty living space. I went to Bangs to pack up the house, something inside of me broke. It broke when I looked up and again in my life I was alone. When it seemed that the weight of the family rested squarely on my shoulders, upon my heart, and in my hands. “I am done!” the words escaped my mouth as a dam inside my heart broke and with it came a flood of tears. “I can’t do this any more!” were also words that came about. As my heart shattered, I knew that I really don’t owe anyone. I don’t owe them an explanation, I don’t owe them financial stability, I don’t owe anyone my soul. I stood on the front porch in the beautiful sunrise of the early morning and realized just how alone I was. How many of the people in my life were only there for what they could gain. Not gaining in a material thing way, more of wanting a piece of my heart, a part of my soul. They needed their emotional needs and wants met with little to no regard to mine. Even when I needed only a little time, a little space all alone, I couldn’t have that because their own needs were not being met. I had worked my ass off, friends and family and helped all they could, but it was the people that I give to everyday, that I am bombarded by everyday with needs that were not there physically, emotionally, or in any other capacity. In fact, through it all they were even more demanding of me. I cannot carry these people in my life any more. I don’t have anything left to give.
As my faith and soul have grown, I realize that it is time to find and work on my own path. Time to build for myself. I once would have thought it selfish of me but I now understand that it is not. It is in fact and must that I replenish my own soul or I will never be able to help others. So, on the third anniversary of my disastrous bucking off of life’s wild stallion, I open my arms and begin the rebuilding of myself. With faith in my Creator to lead the way, absolute love in my heart for myself and my fellow man, life begins anew. People are either standing by my side in mutual respect and love or they are a rock that decorates my path.