Finding Fear

Many of you have been wondering where I've been, AGAIN.  Well, if God said to rest on the seventh day, I blame the whole brain radiation for making me think every day in September was a Sunday.  I must be the holiest woman in the world right now.  I write that and think, "How dare I use scripture in such an irreverent way?"

I write it and I "find my fear." This is how describe Sadie on the playground lately. A year ago we were expecting a hurricane-like event in the city.  Mayor Bloomberg warned the streets would be flooded and mass transit would be a mess for days. So my dear friend, Amanda, invited us to join her and her family to her parents' home in Jersey to weather (bad pun intended) the storm.  In their backyard, they have an old-school jungle gym.  It's made of thick rectangle beams, sturdy as they day they were bought, which had to be over 30 years ago.  It's the real deal because it actually has a see-saw/teeter-tot.  Good luck finding one of those these days.

That weekend Sadie was about two years old.  She climbed up the loose chain ladder with speed and agility.  She walked on a high beam.  She had perfect balance, unbelievable strength and demonstrated "NO FEAR!"  Everyone there was stunned.  Of course, I was like a peacock, walking around a little taller and that's saying something for someone one who is 5'2".  A year later, she has "found her fear."  She still has the strength and agility to climb the chain ladder but she gets nervous at the top where she must take that last step.  She realizes now that if she falls it will hurt.  She is aware of the consequences of her actions.  She treads lightly now or asks for help when I know, and deep inside she knows, she can do it on her own.

At the beginning of this year, I received two correspondences each castigating me for my use of foul language.  One of them was particularly strident while the other had more of a tone for dialogue about my usage of profanity.  At 37, I had never been addressed in such a manner.  I held on to the pain and anger for a long time. It shut me up and essentially shut the blog down.  I was afraid to use my voice (which has always included swear words) lest I offend someone who was praying for me, sending me love, etc.  Finally, through my own prayer and mediation, I found a way to forgive.  I confronted those who had injured me. They were nothing but apologetic and truly sorry for hurting me.  There was peace in my heart. Or so I thought

Within weeks more anger bubbled up, but it wasn't directed at them.  As I searched my soul, I knew in many ways I agreed with them.  Words do matter.  Words have a vibration.  Words have an intention.  Words can harm or heal.  But believe me, my words have never had the intention of injuring anyone, especially not my readers. 

My words, be they profane or not, are the few things I have in my arsenal to fight and free myself from this relentless disease.  C'mon. Give a girl a break.  When someone says, "shut the front door," we all know what that is code for so why not just say the damn phrase.

I am still mulling over this debate in my head.  I have a feeling there are more f-bombs to be dropped and hecks to haggle over.   Remember, this is my place to blow off steam, not just give medical updates. So, I hope you will reserve judgment no matter how it plays out and continue to send me and my family your prayers, meditations and vibes.

Peacefully,
Elisa