I have avoided conflict for a long, long time. It felt better than confrontation, as anger (mine or that of those around me) is physically painful to me. What I had not realised was that that avoidance was hiding a monster within.
The monster, let's be clear, is not me or the other. In fact, in this story there is no 'other'. In honest hero action, my encounter with the monster was personal and though some may have witnessed it, it was not their role to take part - my monster, my fight. So I fought it on my own, and only in so doing did I divest it of its innocent disguise and reveal its claws deeply grasping at my innards. Only then did I realise that my silence was not prudence, but the silence of the chocked, of the gagged, of the dead or dying.
'Not making waves' is a very Anglo-Saxon requirement for good manners. I, it turns out, have been extraordinarily well brought up. But now that I'm all grown up, I have decided that I will take responsibility for my waves. After all, water must move for the fish to gain access to oxygen; otherwise, it's a dead pond. I will do what I can to give the fish the chance to breathe - and then, they can choose what they do.
This is not making too much sense, is it? I'm not surprised, it is so fraught with meaning...
OK, the story is that I have long had certain ideas that I knew would not be kindly received by some of my dearest and nearest. Oh, no, I am not a hidden anything, but honestly my positions in certain issues just don't sit too well with some people in my environment. I don't blame them, actually; I understand where they come from, where they stand. I once stood there and felt/thought similar things. But I moved on, and have since reached points which seem idealistic, naive, or plain treacherous to the memory of 'my own'.
I don't believe in the idea of 'my own' anymore, for one, so that's a problem. I don't believe in things having to be the way they have been and are, but rather I believe in the ability we all have to change. I don't believe in national, clan, religious or cultural identity... There are many more things I don't believe in, and many others I do believe, and I am TIREEEEDDDDDDDDD of being quiet, of saying 'yes, of course' and accept others' 'reasoning' and judgements as if they did make a difference, when all the while I can see the holes.
So, a few days ago I posted something on FB. I often post things, and I usually either recruit people for causes, recommend documentaries I find enlightening, or share uplifting maxims and images. This time, I chose to share something which I found somehow encompassed all three, but was neither one specific.
And the monster roared.
As I was selecting the link, I hesitated repeatedly whether I should really put it up. It didn't even occur to me, as is doing now, that it was 'my wall' I was hanging it on, so I had perfect right to do so. I just thought about how some of the people I love would probably hear only part of the message and misunderstand most of what I understood, and of my own message in regards to it. Yet I did it, shaky hands and all. And I read their replies, and I had been right. I breathed in and out, stood my ground, refused to acquiesce and appease, to justify myself, to explain. And I saw how strong, beautiful and proud I rightfully am.
I felt the tremors, and I heard the monster roar again: the promise of an abyss of loss - of family, of friends, of recognition.
There, that was the monster: I have had to please the role, the opinions of those around to prevent their discomfort, for as long as I can remember. Doing otherwise, as I believed, meant harm to all. I should 'let sleeping dogs lie' and allow people to reach their own points in their personal evolution without my prompting. I was supposed to NOT be the Witch; to not inspire, but just respond.
No more.
Sure, anger is still painful,so I don't believe in either gratuitous fighting nor useless debates. But I have regained contact with my Self, and I've remembered, at a soul-level, what I AM, what I DO.
I am the WITCH: woman, independent, thinking, caring, healer.
Now, monsters, hear ME roar.
