I started the process alright. Today I got the paper and cut it to size for the making of origami roses. I also bought metallic markers for writing the lost loves I missed out on. Normal losses that most people take for granted. You know? Ward Cleaver for a dad? I had a far less happy experience. War and military trained dads are often victims of PTSD themselves, and then they pass that heritage down to their kids. Even little girls…teenage girls…end up punching bags. Its really sad, because love is lost…gone…’poof’…killed and maimed…love that could have been an awesome friendship ….instead becomes a battleground of pain and suffering.
Well…so like I said…I’m in the music…and I came to Elton John. Such a magnificent composer and writer. He has been with me a long time…and this time I’m in space with Rocket Man, and I’m thinking,….FOR SURE, Mars IS NOT the kind of place to raise the kids (that being Mars is the location of the fragmented and tormented soul)…nope…but some of us damaged don’t destroy our kids (mine are doing alright, thank you Jesus)…(my higher and anointed soul)… although they got a good taste of the heritage of the cycle of pain and trauma….
anyway…along comes “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me”….and I”m there…realizing the truth of my situation. 58 and I’m finally gathering up the fragments of my broken soul and personality and putting them in organized form under the anointed truth of my authentic self..and its a BITCH work…its HARD..its sad. Its painful..but fuckin-a, I’m going through it, cos I’m tough enough, smart enough, talented enough, and dammit, I DO love myself…
So a love song..
To me. From me. And when I stop crying and singing ….I’ll get on the origami. But I need to grieve, and I’m going to honor the process, cos on the other side is a woman who will get back into “life” again, and not be afraid, and not fall for the deceptions, and never again be anyone else’s slave or punching bag… onward through a river of tears.