Impossible Is Only The Improbable

by Aashdoda
© March 2011

  Of all the regrets I could have there is still only one.  Where is my pod, my true home where my heart is connected to others with a sense of belonging, safety, and all the love I do deserve?  Without a trace of my children I feel lost.

  Why do I allow myself to revisit this place of isolation when someone points out just how different and outside the norm my life has been?  I know there is no such thing as "normal",  no two entities that are completely alike.
 

 Yes, I am different because of the sum of my experiences with life, with death, with violence that cost me the lives of my children and for many years any sense of sanity.  I  lived through the insane.  I fought to survive to get free in order to truly become free.

  I have done the work to heal, taken the time that required isolation to a great degree.  All the abuse of my childhood demanded I step away from people until I could get my act together, reshape my thoughts, rebuild a healthy identity before I let someone inside my world.  At 17 I knew this had to be.  It was the only way.  That made it an easy decision though I had no idea how long it would take or the cost.  So I searched out help everywhere, shut my mouth and listened.  I found lessons everywhere at the strangest of times that brought me resolution and  finally peace only because I put my money where my mouth was and did the bone crushing back breaking work of healing by facing the truth head on.

  Little did I know it would take the bulk of my life to heal and truly be ready to love again.  Grief over the deaths of my boys has taken it's toll.  At one point it literally took my life yet I found that in death there was still life and my feelings were with me.  Face to face with my Maker I was schooled in how life works.   Awe filled me!  Shame too and more sorrow than I know how to say.  Stunned by my lessons I was returned only to learn through many more years of imminent death I can't die.  My job is not done.  The Divine plan for my life is unfulfilled and as long as that remains the case I can't die.  I will survive.  My personal quest will be to learn so that I may thrive, be more than I was, and share the hope that ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE.

  My life is indeed very improbable.  I've been called an enigma.  I've been told the horrors I've lived couldn't possibly happen yet they did.  "People don't torture children," a therapist told me, "and they don't kill babies."  I bear the scars that prove it all, found the physical evidence to shatter the lies and the silence.  In my mother's own hand upon her death I was given written proof that what I was living thru did happen exactly as I knew it had though she tried for years to convince me I'd never know truth from fiction.  I knew but I just didn't tell her I knew everything, every missing day she thought I had wasn't missing at all just held in trust deep in the quiet dark corners of my mind waiting for me to gain the skills necessary to heal.  The skills came one by one like the building blocks of a stone castle.  Looking back today I see this castle of wholeness, I feel it as the sunshine warms my face.  If I were truly an enigma how could it be solid and immovable?

    I'm certain Sir Isaac Newton had his moments of doubt when gravity and what he learned, though at the time merely a theory, left him berated by followers and colleagues alike, and attacked by the church.  The science was sound but stubborn minds believed the world was flat and that's all there was to it. He didn't doubt what he knew was true.  I suspect he doubted only how he could help others understand it.  At times the bickering and sneers must have been utterly demoralizing.  The daring thought the sun was the center of our solar system was obvious to him, driving elliptical orbits that accounted for certain breaks in seasonal timing was glaring proof, but bucking the status quo wasn't getting him anywhere.  Still he persevered.

  When did the word different become so hard to swallow?   Long before my time I dare say.  Noah built the Ark in the middle of a desert upon command and he was called a lunatic, at least up until the flood came and the world began to be washed away.  I often wonder what people must have thought as the animals showed up and began filing into the Ark in pairs, vicious and docile creatures paying no mind to the other, mortal combat on vacation.

  Without a trace of my children but the scars of my own body's home for them I regret being so different only when someone points it out.  I don't regret my life is what it is.  I love the memory of my children, their cries, their movements, and the way I felt carrying each of them.  I wish to GOD that even one of them were alive but I also know no matter what they have my love; I've just had to learn to express it in prayer and through my life.

  What I can do to make my life fuller is to remind myself today that my life is a living monument to their love, the very best part of me that they brought out in me.  I can live without them here but not without them in my heart!  I can remind myself that for whatever reason my life is different there is a rhyme and a reason for it whether or not I know what that is.  I can look outside, stand in the fresh heavy Spring air after a gentle snow fall last night and breathe in the wonder of this moment and the love I feel.  I can be different and happy, peaceful and complete even in my frailties and uneasiness.

  One of my dearest friends said it best after her mother recently passed away.  "It is the memories that get you, the memories that hurt."

  The "what if's" in my life surround my children in my thoughts.  Dr. Phil says to play that game to its conclusion.  I am the captain of my ship therefore I absolutely must govern my thoughts.  In my thoughts I control the rudder of my ship.  I have no desire to play a game with myself, much less hurt myself.  I will steer wiser than before this blog because in this moment I see the power of a feeling is only a strong as I allow the thoughts behind it to be or to become by not paying attention.

  I am as supple as the wind.  I am different.  I am the strength in my vulnerability as I embrace whom I have grown into being.  In this moment I am exactly what I need to be and there is no room here for regret.  I have become my own best friend.

  Of this I am certain, I would have if only I'd been given the chance, parent my children with all the love in my mother's heart, counseling them as I have just counseled myself.  I love myself enough to not let myself off the hook, let my thoughts run amuck.  I also love myself enough to know when to be tough and when to be gentle or combine the two for a powerful burst of wind in my own sails that set me straight on my course.

  Yesterday was what it was.  Tomorrow is a wonderful thing for dreams.  Today is the very best because here is where I truly live and choose to be free.