It is hot today. So far today I worked. I was falling asleep at work, so I tried to lie down under the fan. And if it's 93 degrees, with a heat index of 104, cuddling is logical...for a cat. I laid down and immediately had a furry, purry drape!
Isolation is a big issue. I have long understood that I have an incredible capacity for being alone, and I also have infinite capacity to be silent. We use isolation to insulate ourselves, yet it ensures the private space to allow abuse to occur. And then there is solitary confinement, among the cruelest of punishments. I inflict it on myself. And as we have been discovering, we have thrown off bits of ourselves - I'm still not sure if it was discarding or protecting - all isolated one from the other and from our core, aware self. It's our friend, our saving grace, our oasis of sanity, yet our enemy, the source of greatest pain.
I was talking to one of my offspring yesterday and mentioned that you and I have been working together a lot. The comment was that: Yeah, Aunt S#2 and Aunt S#3 were always the most in tune with me/our family. You mentioned the consistency throughout your life with me and S#3, and that is what I have felt, too. I know she does not want to remember what happened, and I can't blame her, but sometimes I think what she would have to add to this body of writing would be invaluable. Eventually we'll create the circle that draws her in.
What did I feel when I explored F-burg? First a question for you: Did you have any reaction to the photo of the church/old neighborhood? I felt curiosity, a lot of questioning of myself, what was right, what was true memory, why would I remember obscure names and facts...? I thought of some of the characters in the neighborhood, some funny, some frightening. Somehow the front part of the house - both of our bedroom windows are along that face that barely shows - wasn't as frightening as I thought it would be. I remembered being sick there, I remember contemplating suicide there, I remembered a bedroom wall covered by teen heart-throb pictures. I remembered when the old plaster ceiling collapsed on the little girls' bed. I remembered the hole the older two boys drilled, or scraped into the bathroom wall, so they could watch everyone bathe. I used to fill the hole with soft soap, but they always cleared it back out. I wondered about the willow trees, and the grape vines that cut the yard in half, and the old, old pear tree. More wondering, less feeling...not very emotional. I wonder what it would be like to walk through the streets. I wonder if things are so different now that it wouldn't trigger the visceral memories. From the aerial map, it looked like a lot of the old buildings along the alley were gone. If I have a chance to get down to you, we can consider the walking tour. It will definitely get stories flowing!
So, I sought Ugly last night and found it in my heart. My heart physically reacted as I encouraged it to come out. Ugly is definitely has a chameleon quality. It takes on the absolute color and texture of anything it is on. I almost didn't see the creature, I just saw movement - unless it looked at me. It is about the size of my hand - no, a bit smaller - round, with insect type legs. And it took some doing, but Ugly has black eyes - like dark circles from kidney weakness, like bruised from being hit and like extremely dilated pupils. And Ugly can not see. Ugly was using my heart to see. ( I am feeling very strange, weird, vulnerable to be writing this. Why does my psyche have to be so far out there with the symbolism??) Ugly likes to keep eyes averted all the time.
Do I store ugliness in my heart. Is Ugly there to help or to hide? I have said many times that I have a broken heart. Why there? Maybe it is absorbing all the Ugly, so my heart could keep beating, so I could remain basically kind and humane.
I keep returning to isolation. It can be so soothing. I wonder if that is why Dad always gets mean after we've been there for more than a day...or really he can't seem to handle overnights. He needs to be soothed by isolation - no one looking at him, no one touching him, no one making demands of him...It is soothing, yet so sterile...we survive, yet we don't live...we are waiting to be noticed and loved, yet we don't want anyone to disrupt our lonely sanctuary...
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