Monday, August 31, 2009


I smelled Fall today on the breeze which licked promise of change into the skin of my want as I drifted through the dark night and followed the trail of restless discontent which drew me along the midnight roads. My mind won’t settle and dread trickles dreary through pore and sinew as I walk the night and watch the stars wheel free above me and yearn towards the heavens and the freedom they promise.

I close my eyes and the whisper of ocean sweeps into my thoughts and I breathe deep the spume which drifts cool through thoughts of rocky shores and yearn with a physical ache that catches my breath towards change and venues unconquered.

I tremble within the prison of thought and emotion and wonder at the human capacity to metamorphosis and the ability to shed skin and mindset together with the seasons which flip time through our lives and leach possibilities from our future. The paths are always there, though hidden perhaps in a fall of leave and loam and the detritus of past actions and spent emotions.

I have been musing lately on the nature of change and the impact on our lives of pain delivered with forethought and intent and without the leavening power of care. Scars change the landscape of skin and sinew and form new venue not always familiar to eyes which reinvent remembered lands now twisted and scarred with thought and deed. Lands which spark recognition then confusion as we pause, certainty confused by new settings.

The human psyche is truly remarkable in its ability to withstand agonies that in hindsight, seem insurmountable and impossible to internalize. Yet many of us do and indeed, find inner strength and purpose that forces us forward, reluctant, in pain yet with fortitude and determination cloaked in inevitability and a stoic need to continue.

A year ago, I was here – and the mantle of rage still sits comfortably there in the front of my cupboard although truth be told, I seldom wear it these days. Nonetheless, it is there, not yet pushed to the back nor do I feel inclined, in thought, word or deed, to put it away anytime soon. For its warmth and strength have sustained me through times of bleakness and the the black fragility of broken soul for longer than I care to recall.

I think perhaps that the rich red expanse of rage will be internal to who I am for the balance of a life that has used its rich cloth often to provide strength through times of need. I have no desire to fight the conflagration of its enveloping folds nor wish to reject its sometimes painful hold.

It is, when all is said and done, part of the entirety of me.

I run my fingers along the scars of a psyche battered by neglect and spite and feel the healing beneath the twisted skin. Like rage, this scarred reminder of past agonies is integral to who I am right now and while his fingers are gentle now and run warmth along the whorls and twists of his creation, I recognize that scars are not just skin deep but run tendrils of change soul-deep.

I recognize too that scars are not intrinsic only to me but that each of us carries with us, sometimes obvious, sometimes not, life’s interpretation of what it means to exist.


mouse said...

Not surprising but this really speaks to me profoundly. I understand so thoroughly ever word.

I had and have my scars most have been picked at and made to bleed so they could properly heal. It was the most painful thing I have ever been through and honestly the most rewarding.


Vesta said...


In my recent post, I spoke of the work I have done with a mentor online. In truth, a considerable part of that work was dealing and transforming my feelings of anger (or rage). He managed to show me that I had control over those feelings and that those feelings were holding me back from finding successful outcomes for my life; my inner life too.

My point is, you don't have to carry around your feelings of rage or anger, or any other negative emotion, forever. To start, did the person(s) who made your angry in the first place 'intentionally' mean to hurt you? There is another way.


selkie said...

mouse, it is true, that you to seem to know something a lot of people don't, that pain can bring with it a form of insight and resolution.

Vesta, I'm actually intrigued that you had an online mentor whose guidance actually helped and was not merely a con - I think that is wonderful and that the lessons you were taught were so fruitful.

Now insofar as my rage; first, oh yes it was meant to destroy, very definitely. But dont misunderstand; it was only after a year of utter despair that I found my rage and in so doing, found strength and a form of metamorphosis.

While I agree that rage can destroy, I realized that it can also inspire, goad, strengthen and liberate.

My rage is part and parcel of who I am, something I never truly internalized until events in my life put me in a place to understand that. I won't ever release it and try to pretend that part of me isnt there, as viable and dynamic a part of my personality as any other. the trick of course, and I think I know and have the ability, is to control the rage and not allow it to ride you- you ride it.

I will never let it go. It literaly saved my life. At the same time it doesnt consume my life. It is simply there, to be worn when needed.

Vesta said...

selkie: All right, then; good! If it is working for you and is helpful, then that's all I need to know. For myself, I found the rage exhausting and deeply distressing, so it had to go. I'm a naturally ethereal sort of person and so, you see, it just wasn't a comfortable garment to wear.

My best wishes, as always.

selkie said...

Vesta, I think you put your finger on it - if rage is not part of your innate personality then it will always be a destructive force. At the same time, even if that type of passion IS intrinsic, it must never be allowed to be the driving force. However, properly understood, controlled and used, it can be a powerful tool for change.

Jz said...

Like you on my post about trust, I keep coming back to this. This is a really tough one.
I hate rage. Mostly because I can't harness it. Rather, it storms in, has it's way with me, and drains away, leaving me empty and battered. But you're right. Sometimes it's the only thing stronger than despair. And one of the few things I hate in me more than rage is despair.
Damned if you do, damned if you don't...

Gillette said...

Hm...for me, rage is simply a step on an emotional scale. Important for me to allow full expression of it.

But also for me, no emotions stay for long or they get stuck in their loop and shift from being agents of transformation to being places of destruction as if they don't move they fester.

It's all about the balance...geeee...where I have I heard that before? :)

selkie said...

JZ, once upon a time, my rage was like that but I learned to control it. I put it away for far too long and in the doing so, almost lost myself. For me, it is a well loved part of who I am.

and yes, Gillette, exactly - I figured out only recently (never said I was quick) that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with my rage - it is just another aspect of selkie.

and yes, BALANCE is the key!