Celebrating Scars
He calls her "my lovegiver." The thoughtfulness of their kids expressed in the gifts and card prepared in celebration of their parents' 27th wedding anniversary was really sweet. I am sincerely very happy for this couple. Theirs is a love that is a rarity these days. Yes, there are many who continue to remain married to each other "till death do (them) part", but rarely do I see such freshness of love and deep affection in couples married for so many years.
For one fleeting moment, I felt a pinch in my heart - a little bit of envy, a little bit of sadness. I have not given up on the possibility of being called a "lovegiver" beyond filial or parental love again, but the possibility of being greeted on a wedding anniversary is far-fetched if not impossible. It is one of those moments when I would feel an old wound touched - healed in many ways but somehow with some marks left. The scars will always be there. They will always remind me of the loss, of something that I can never have. . . again.
Entering my inner world, a deep sense of peace resurfaced. Scars - they remind us of the heartaches, of the battles that caused the pain, of how we were wounded. But there is more to scars than just memories of pain and loss. Scars are also a reminder of how we struggled, of how we have stretched ourselves beyond what we thought we were capable of, of how we survived the crises that brought these, of the strength we discovered in our inmost selves - strength we probably didn't even realize we had. Scars - they remind us of the better persons we have become as a result of choosing to face rather than running away from our realities and from where our higher Selves are calling us; they remind us that we are better off despite, or perhaps because, of the experiences that deeply wounded us.
While I am genuinely happy for this couple, I am also happy for myself. I may not be such a blue-sky person but I think it would be untruthful and a manifestation of ingratitude to the Giver of Life and Blessings to say that I am not in a better place now.
I have learned to use the strengths and gifts that I had been blessed with because, though I must have hit rock bottom at some point, I went on. I had to wake up each morning and decide to be at least functional as I had a son to raise. I may have had moments of depression and lots of emotional rollercoasters, but I had to motivate myself to go through low moments without being eaten by these. I had to pull myself together because I had a son and, equally important, I still had my Self. I lost a significant person and relationship but I still had other significant relationships - my relationships with my son, with my Self, and with my God. Because I had lost someone I could share my innermost feelings and thoughts with, I learned to harness even more my relationship with myself, with my God, and with other friends who cared for me in a deep way. Having lost someone to share the responsibilities and burden of meeting financial needs, I had learned to trust in my abilities enough to do things I wouldn't dare do - imagine freelancing as a single parent! Mainly because of the need to earn my keep without giving up my work and personal values, I pushed myself to do things I otherwise wouldn't even consider doing (including selling programs because I've always thought of myself as someone who runs programs rather than sells these). Forced to be on my own, I had discovered that being alone isn't necessarily always lonely and that "I" could actually be a great companion to myself.
All the stretching bore fruit not only on the functional plane but also in the realms of parenthood and intimacy both with my Self and with significant others. The scar - bearer of the story of my inner journey through very dark woods towards wholeness and triumph; a reminder that there is so much to celebrate despite the losses in my life.
For one fleeting moment, I felt a pinch in my heart - a little bit of envy, a little bit of sadness. I have not given up on the possibility of being called a "lovegiver" beyond filial or parental love again, but the possibility of being greeted on a wedding anniversary is far-fetched if not impossible. It is one of those moments when I would feel an old wound touched - healed in many ways but somehow with some marks left. The scars will always be there. They will always remind me of the loss, of something that I can never have. . . again.
Entering my inner world, a deep sense of peace resurfaced. Scars - they remind us of the heartaches, of the battles that caused the pain, of how we were wounded. But there is more to scars than just memories of pain and loss. Scars are also a reminder of how we struggled, of how we have stretched ourselves beyond what we thought we were capable of, of how we survived the crises that brought these, of the strength we discovered in our inmost selves - strength we probably didn't even realize we had. Scars - they remind us of the better persons we have become as a result of choosing to face rather than running away from our realities and from where our higher Selves are calling us; they remind us that we are better off despite, or perhaps because, of the experiences that deeply wounded us.
While I am genuinely happy for this couple, I am also happy for myself. I may not be such a blue-sky person but I think it would be untruthful and a manifestation of ingratitude to the Giver of Life and Blessings to say that I am not in a better place now.
I have learned to use the strengths and gifts that I had been blessed with because, though I must have hit rock bottom at some point, I went on. I had to wake up each morning and decide to be at least functional as I had a son to raise. I may have had moments of depression and lots of emotional rollercoasters, but I had to motivate myself to go through low moments without being eaten by these. I had to pull myself together because I had a son and, equally important, I still had my Self. I lost a significant person and relationship but I still had other significant relationships - my relationships with my son, with my Self, and with my God. Because I had lost someone I could share my innermost feelings and thoughts with, I learned to harness even more my relationship with myself, with my God, and with other friends who cared for me in a deep way. Having lost someone to share the responsibilities and burden of meeting financial needs, I had learned to trust in my abilities enough to do things I wouldn't dare do - imagine freelancing as a single parent! Mainly because of the need to earn my keep without giving up my work and personal values, I pushed myself to do things I otherwise wouldn't even consider doing (including selling programs because I've always thought of myself as someone who runs programs rather than sells these). Forced to be on my own, I had discovered that being alone isn't necessarily always lonely and that "I" could actually be a great companion to myself.
All the stretching bore fruit not only on the functional plane but also in the realms of parenthood and intimacy both with my Self and with significant others. The scar - bearer of the story of my inner journey through very dark woods towards wholeness and triumph; a reminder that there is so much to celebrate despite the losses in my life.
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