truth over intoxication

A wise woman once said about a great poet (paraphrased):

He chose truth over intoxication. He didn't want his poetry to cast a spell over anyone. He didn't want to possess the wizardry of words. Of course, only someone who is capable of magic in the first place is in the position to give it up.

A long time ago I believed that if I worked hard enough I could unlock this kind of magic within myself. I wanted it so bad, I thought I could taste it. I didn't yet realize that this is a gift that is given, not one that is won even through considerable efforts. I had this idea that everyone in the world was capable of the power to mesmerize, and that in order to do so, they had cracked some kind of code that I couldn't begin to decipher. As I aged, it was as if I was a cup being nudged closer and closer to the edge of a table, a cup who then tipped over and fell, crashing into shards. It was then that I had a sneaking suspicion that I would never be understood. For how could I expect anyone else to make a guess when I couldn't understand nor respect what I re-assembled into, and didn't quite grasp the pieces of myself I had left behind.

But still I made a choice. I made a choice to not choose, to remain fragmented in part. I was
afraid that the whole person I would potentially become would disappoint me much more than my shell of an existence. Little did I know that being broken would impact the lives of the people closest to me, having this childish notion that consequences only impact one person, the person responsible for setting them into motion. But the backlash caused by rejecting my life, and stilting my growth into adulthood would chafe everyone I've worked to become close to. Yet that chafing was brush fire compared to the blazing friction that exploded everytime I was jolted back into the reality of who I had allowed myself to become. (The real outbursts came when I saw that I wasn't being prodded toward the edge of that table, much the opposite: I willfully inched my way there.) I am still simmering, smoldering with anger for giving up on myself. I didn't even put up a fight.

I also understand now that I can be mad at myself, that this is a reasonable and honest way to feel, but that this anger cannot be pitted inwardly. It's simply too hot to handle, and I risk burning myself out. But how to drown a fire that has been steadily growing for longer than I can remember? Perhaps the answer is not to drown it alltogether, that would be impossible, but to quench it before it gets out of control...It may not be necessary to rid myself of it entirely. A firey, zealous spirit is plenty useful when channeled towards the proper mark. Right now I'm still trying to find my mark.

I'm also trying to learn to choose again, the right way this time. I want to choose truth over intoxication, as that great poet once did. I want to choose the reality of the world, and the people in it over the illusion I create in my mind. That illusion can be so powerful when it's held up like a photograph beside the harshness of the actual world, and your actual self, that you want to jump into that picture. To lose yourself in it. But I now understand more why that poet resisted falling into his own work, it is simply far to easy to let go of the concreteness of the things surrounding you, and near impossible to come back to earth.

Well, perhaps I do have some kind of magic. This ability to cast a spell over things like an anti-fairy, creating fractured fairytales..Ones where things are less than perfect in the end, and even princesses can have "not-so-good hours". Then again that may be another one of my illusions, which have much more to do with mental frustration than actual enchantment. Heh, I should be grateful for what I get. Grateful that my cup, though barely able to hold itself together, is still being filled up in the first place.

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easy to swallow

Just a warning: This is not going to be easy to swallow. It's going to be exceedingly difficult to deal with, to come to terms with, because I've made the decision to be difficult. Not difficult in my usual ways of being antisocial, critical, or cynical, although I'm sure cynicism will always remain a somewhat useful part of me. It's challenging because I'm starting to refuse to be palatable anymore. Because I'm going to try not to internalize my anger anymore. I'm not going to "shut up", or "get over it", or any of the myriad of other things women like me are expected to do in this society. That means not just acknowledging my frustrations, but focusing them in a productive way instead of beating myself up over them.

I would love to say I've come to this decision on my own but there are many factors which are influencing me at the moment. A couple of noteworthy blog entries I've been checking out are The Rotund's entry on anger (specifically the anger of women), and an inspired post from Mandolin over at Alas, A Blog which focuses on ways to silence women. Both are excellent blogs in general, and these posts are definitely worth checking out (including the comments) when you have the time to fully digest them. And it's going to take awhile to digest them. I still am, and I'm still defining what it means to be strong, and capable, and angry-I said the "A-word"- in a way that doesn't damage either myself or other people-both men and women...especially other women. There is alot of potential for damage, about as much as there is for positive growth.

Growth is something very subjective. From the outside point of view, I've probably seen as not advanced very far, I'm not successful in the ways that count in the world, but I know myself pretty well. I've grown alot since I was younger. Admittedly, not all in good ways. I've gone through ups and downs with my anger that have shaped the way I see the world. When I was little, up until the last years of junior high, I was very eager to please. In fact, that was my specialty, you could say, Pleasing People. I felt it was something I was good at, making people feel at ease, being the teacher's pet, etc. But I guess you could also say I've always known something was wrong with that. (Not that it's not okay to be kind and to make others feel good, but "kind" and "nice" are completely different animals. Nice can exist without feeling, but kind cannot. Maybe more on that later..)

Well, towards the end of junior high, and the beginning of high school that feeling of something being amiss nagged me more and more, and I started to get angry. I was angry at my peers, at my parents (divorced and not living together), at my teachers, at society in general..But mostly at myself. I was angry because I felt forced to be a certain person, a reasonable, responsible, safe person. I felt obliged to shut my mouth and bear up under everything that was rocking my small, unsteady little world because I felt I had no right to speak because I was merely taking up space. Alot of space. Unfortunately I focused all my anger in a negative way, and failed myself both figuratively and literally. I think it would have helped to read the words at the links above, and realize that I:

A. Have a reason to be angry, and

B. Should be able to admit and express that anger without feeling guilty about it.

Sure, everything cannot be solved by the release of anger, but feeling safe enough to be angry, feeling that your anger is valid, can go a long way in growing up, growing "out", and "widening the scope of your lens", which is to say, allowing yourself to see and apprieciate more of the world.

Now that I feel more comfortable in expressing myself, I realize how hard it is to find people in the world who aren't afraid, or judgemental about female anger. People who aren't immediately dismissive. But part of maturing is also understanding that we can only change ourselves and not those around us. It's not fair to expect people to act certain ways based on my own experiences, or what I think I would/should do in a given situation. Plus, there are going to be people who see me as loud, angry and agressive no matter what I do, and ceasing to speak or write is not going to change their minds. But, even if it did, why would I want to appease them that way?

Anyway, I'm going to be doing more research on communication, anger, and some not-so-easy-to-swallow topics, so my posts may follow a pattern. I'll keep you updated.

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