So. It occurred to me. Perhaps I am not meant to find the words I want right off the bat. Perhaps I’m supposed to find them one step at a time. Over days, or weeks, or months. Maybe even years. Talk about frustrating.
Being me, I couldn’t let it go at that. So, I gave that a bit of thought. And I said to myself, “That’ll work.” And here I am. On my little corner of the ‘Net. A tiny little space. Deciding to write about the search for the words.
It also occurred to me that I could tell you exactly what I’m trying to say. But all that I’d accomplish in doing that is getting everyone ticked off at me. Like I’ve done repeatedly in my life. Like a broken record. Or a loop of tape. Or one of those time loop things from Star Trek, or Star Gate. Where the same sequence of events happens over, and over, and over again.
Here’s a glimpse of what I’m trying to find the words to say. It’s a quote from Pema Chödrön.
“As long as our orientation is toward perfection or success, we will never learn about unconditional friendship with ourselves, nor will we find compassion. ”
I like what she writes. Here’s another quote.
“At the root of all the harm we cause is ignorance.”
Here’s a quote from Thich Nhat Hanh… I like this…
“When another person makes you suffer, it is because he suffers deeply within himself, and his suffering is spilling over. He does not need punishment; he needs help. That’s the message he is sending.”
I could go on, and on. And keep making quotes forever. But what would that accomplish? I could say, “She said that all she wanted was to get her life back,” but you wouldn’t understand why that terrifies me, or why it makes my heart ache, and my soul cry tears of pain. Another voice I once knew told me to go away. That I was part of her past. And she didn’t want to remember her past any more. I know many that would say, “Good! Move on! Get over it!” But would not understand at all the sorrow that I feel at such words. Would not understand the hard-won knowledge I have that pretending something never was does not solve anything. And in truth, only makes things worse.
I could patiently try to explain that I was frustrated, and not angry. But I have already met too many people in my life that ask me time, and time again, why I am so angry. Too many people who have told me to calm down. Not realizing that all they were doing was growing my frustration.
I could tell you of the people I love. But you would not understand. No one ever has. Instead, they’ve run away from me in fear. Because for a male to love a female. Well. We all know where that leads, don’t we? And for a male to love a male. Well. “There’s a reason he wears pink and lavender shirts with fairies on them.”
So, I’m here. Trying to find the words to tell you of the things I’ve learned. The things I know. Knowing that the words I have now. The words I could say.
Are words you would not understand. At all.
Leaving me with so few options. So few choices. I can hide away. Be invisible. Until I find the words. And then write them down. But I may never find the words. I can simply write down the words as I understand them. And hope that someday, someone wakes up enough to understand them. Or I can write. All the time. Every day. Every week. Trying to find a way to say what I wish to say. A way to tell the stories trapped within me. In the hope, and with the wish, that as I write the stories, and the words, that I share here, in this place. Someday. Somewhere. Someone will understand.
And wake up.