It has been a year or more, a silence that is loud.
Distant in its darkness.
Unknown what was once so familiar.
Once daily and deeply, now gone completely.
Family was our connection, and beyond.
Our mutual curiosity
understanding our wounds
struggles to balance
and, energetic highs of awareness.
The wider expanding growth from the smallest darkest parts of ourself.
We walked with each other through parts of the journey that were brilliantly tragic.
Can this ending mark the content of our million conversations?
Does it take away feelings?
Is the space on hold?
In the early years of losing a family member, my mind consoled itself by saying "for now".
I couldn't contemplate forever.
With all the learning I have learnt about dysfunctional and post traumatic scars is that nothing is reliable.
Again perhaps, the best we can hope for is loving the ambiguity of it all.
I just never thought, our daily talks would leap to year(s) of silence.
Was this pre-ordained?
In the master plan?
For us to re-work our inner family dialogue just to separate?
What is interesting, is that I can connect with someone so deeply and still lose contact.
I didn't foresee this fork in the road.
Not, that there would be one minute of conversation I would regret or not do.
I believe, our time together was a life changing event in my life.
It allowed me to redo my family tie.
In an honest, open, vulnerable way.
To go beneath and address the wounds, fears, joys and peace, and freedom to be.
This exact model, is what has me honoring the space.
It is a free choice.
Not mine, but against me.
My presence is no longer wanted/needed/required.
I was set free.
I don't hold anger.
But, have felt grief.
The same as if someone has died.
The moments when I would have LOVED to share the highs, the lows and even the mundane.
My now familiar stance to have relationships die while the body and life move on.
I can no more force a relationship to live, any more than a person can force a body that is dead to live.
There is an misguided sentiment among society, that we at least "have the opportunity to reconnect" to get it back.
Which puts me (us) in an awkward stance.
Like, we didn't 'mean' to part ways.
We unknowingly exited out of a relationship OR that our reasons were not good enough.
We have a choice to rekindle the old flames.
What most do not take into count is that 'something' changed.
The something that used to draw us close IS now repelling us.
Moving them away from me. Or in some cases, me from them.
This too is natural in the content of our interactions with each other.
Inside of us, unbeknownst to us, is a line; that when crossed it is over.
Mostly, I see it as the last step before a truth will be revealed.
A door shuts.
I am outside.
The truth and I...
The veil falls down between us.
An ironclad curtain of denial.
We certainly could be in the same room, house and town; but standing between us is the fact that we do not relate to reality equally.
The curtain gives them comfort, while it hides them from me.
And, even me from them.
I often feel like I am in a very strange land, or perhaps the strangest in the land.
I can't just allow the curtain to fall into place without acknowledging what It is hiding.
Like a sister once said, "I can't pretend to pretend to pretend" and yet they all do.
What I have learned in the podcast with Rob Bell, is that families and groups and even religions, have things they don't talk about. And, when someone has to live a life talking about the things no one talks about, _ mostly the truth_ it leaves them outside the circle.
So, while it is true, that like the Rilke's poem "I live my life in widening circles", it often leaves me losing a circle of familiar connection.
I have also learned, that those left will strengthen the core that remains. It doesn't even matter if what remains is good. They will tighten those connections...so, the concentration if you will, deepens. And, it broadens the gap between us.
So, in the lines of dysfunctional families, they become more dysfunctional each generation.
Think on this.
It will get darker.
The last connection to my family broke a year ago. This was the most authentically dysfunctional connection I had. Not in denial; but in total awareness to the cost and consequence of being raised as we were raised.
I don't have for him, or the rest, an expectation.
Nothing is required from me.
I honor his journey as time and space fills up with strangeness between us.
The familiar grows strange.
Ambiguity lies where I thought there was deep mutual respect.
Forming and keeping relationships with scars of abuse and its affects is tricky at best.
You can never know when the abused mind will lock you out.
I can't even blame them...or me.
I had heard Glennon Doyle Melton speak about one day her inner honesty arose. It was born in her. She could no more deny it than not breathe.
That is me.
I didn't go out seeking this core of honesty.
It woke up one day and will not die.
I live now like an truth detector - or more like a truth speaker.
I can't pretend, lie or kinda sorta believe in a non-truth.
If we are in a relationship, it will dance between us.
I like it.
It cuts the dance of pretend to silence.