Rather sleepless night...
Lost in thought...the older I get the more I realize how much the damage inflicted on us by our parents marks us and forms us. Everyone I talk to, interact with, seems to be walking wounded. (I heard that phrase in a movie and really like it.) Maybe we are just looking for companions who understand, who are kind and tender. Maybe we are all just looking for a quiet, safe place.
And maybe we are afraid of that quiet, safe place because we have been taught to trust no one...
And then, of course, the mama-fairy showed up with her guilt gilt and sprinkles me, or maybe snowed on me, and reminded me of what I did to my children, of the hurt I inflicted while writhing in my own pain.
Let me be a quiet, safe place for them and for others...
Drearily, dreamingly, tiredly, overwhelmingly Clare
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