A few months back at the gathering I attend on Sunday evenings, Dale Lykins (The Unlearning Blog, dalelykins@substack.com) shared this poem. As I have taken time to sit with it and mull over its powerful imagery, I find a truth that I cannot let go of; a hope that is beginning to grow.
Book of Genesis by Kai Miller
Suppose there was a book full only of the word,
let – from whose clipped sound all things began: fir
and firmament, feather, the first whale – and supposewe could scroll through its pages every day
to find and pronounce a Let meant only for us –
we would stumble through the streets with open books,eyes crossed from too much reading; we would speak
in auto-rhyme, the world would echo itself – and still
we’d continue in rounds, saying let and let and letuntil even silent dreams had been allowed.
What is my silent dream? How can I begin to allow it? What is holding me back? I recently learned a lot about myself by doing an exercise designed to access the inner child by Patrick Tehan. The exercise suggested writing with your non-dominant hand to access the child within. Little Annie’s thoughts became clearer as I worked through the journaling prompts. I found my non-dominant hand to be awkward and slow. Trusting in the process I began connecting with my inner child. Writing as Little Annie helped me feel her deep hurt and debilitating fear of being criticized and rejected.
It made me think of individuals suffering from anorexia and the skewed view they have of the world and themselves. They feel a level of control by not eating and denying themselves. Anorexia is a serious condition and requires the expertise of a qualified provider and yet, I see some similarities in myself. Food and eating are not what I seek to control. For me, it is not a denying of food but a denying of emotion. I take a step back from what I am feeling, I skew my worldview and invalidate my own experience. I can even feel pride at closing myself off as I imagine someone facing the challenges of anorexia might feel pride in not eating. But this closing myself off has finally caught up with me. Yes, it has worked to protect me over the years, but it is no longer serving me. It is becoming a barrier to authenticity and joy. Maybe this is my silent dream, to break free from the lies that have held me back all these years. My silent dream is to be me. Let and let and let.
As Dale continued talking that night he made mention of boundaries. As a counselor, I talk about boundaries every day. I teach my clients how to set and keep their boundaries enabling them to move toward healthier relationships and feelings of self. I know boundaries. I was intrigued as he began to define boundaries more as barriers.
If my silent dream is to experience true freedom, to let loose, and to allow myself more vulnerably then understanding boundaries as barriers is a part of my “let.” To live my life with no explanations, no excuses, no apologies. To listen less to my inner critic and her harsh judgment. To live with fewer limits, no longer held in by my fears. This is not to throw caution to the wind and become an entirely different person. It is to be who I was intended to be, it is to let myself be me. What if the life I am straining for is on the other side of my barriers? Is it possible that we can outgrow our boundaries and when we do they become barriers? Boundaries that although established for safety, have outlived their usefulness and become barriers, roadblocks, or walls.
What if the darkness I fear on the other side is just a light so bright it blinds me? It could be that my boundaries are now keeping safely from my truth. It’s time to put on my sunglasses and leap or maybe at my age a careful climb over the barrier even if I am full of fear and doubt.
Listening to Dale that night at our gathering opened something in me. Something dormant. You could have been seated right next to me and you would not have known this touched me so deeply. I am a master of keeping my emotions to myself. I am bound by boundaries good and awful. Protective and restrictive. Fear resists, and Love releases. If my life has been based upon love as I believe it has then love wins. Breaking free from the safety of my boundaries is scary but necessary. My life is already moving in this direction. When faced with any hard, life-changing decision I have always chosen love. My silent dream is to break free, to choose love for me. I would do it in a heartbeat for my children. I have done it in a heartbeat for my children. Now I do I for me and for that dear, sweet, misunderstood child within. Little Annie, I hear you and although it will be scary I will be here. We have outgrown some of these boundaries. We don’t need them anymore. What we need now is the suppose, and we need the possible. Let and let and let.
I am growing into the possible. I am growing into the let. I am not sure where this will lead me and that is ok. I am ok. My dream is no longer silent.