Someone Was Here

Inukshuk on the coast in Eastern Passage, Canada

Where were you?

Ah yes, selfishly tucked away somewhere trying to bury the guilt wrestling your soul. Too dependent to leave, not strong enough to stay.

The ultimate battle.

It wasn’t that I asked for help, it wasn’t that I told you I needed you.  That would have been a different story.  In fact, it was you that announced you were coming to help me, wanted to be here for me, support me, love me.  It was you who made phone calls to ensure people knew you were compassionate, caring and ready to take action.

All to save your own face.

The guilt wasn’t that you weren’t here to help me. The guilt was that you were worried people were judging you, questioning your decisions, your loyalty.

The reality, of course, is that you should have been here.

You should have been the one to lead me through the darkness, help me redefine myself and help me to function within the confines of anxiety and panic.

Yes, it should have been you.

But it wasn’t.

It was a select few of my dearest friends and family who guided me through this storm, wiped my tears and gave me the strength to persevere.  It was this small group of warriors who came together to check on me every day, offer their time and calm me in a panic.

Someone was here, but it wasn’t you.

Each day that passes, my mindset improves, my confidence grows.

I should have known you wouldn’t be here. I suppose that’s why I didn’t ask.

Your actions were driven by your need to look good to others; so terribly selfish and yet, not surprising.

Your insecurity is difficult to hide, dependency unparalleled.

As I write this, I can’t help but think what will happen if you read it.

It suddenly occurs to me that I don’t care.

I can sleep at night with the choices I have made.

Can you?

© The Flip of the Switch, February 2016.

Wild & Untethered

fog in the morning

When I was a child, there were no seat belts, car seats or power windows.
When I was a child, our family spent Sundays driving along dirt roads listening to the eight track, pulling over occassionally to pick up fallen acorns.
When I was a child, I drank from a beer bottle and stayed up late playing cards with the neighbours.
When I was a child, we jumped from rooftops, ran free through the neighbourhood and soared off swings.
When I was a child, twilight was my curfew and the village raised me.
When I was a child, I ran outside in my socks and swam in ditches during a good rainstorm.
When I was a child, I spent weekends at the drive in, swung from a tire and ate mud pies.
When I was a child, toxicity was everywhere;  we breathed deep, licked the walls and survived to talk about it.
When I was a child, raw hot dogs and cookie dough were staples in my diet.
When I was a child, I got my vitamin C from Tang and everything else from a Flinstone vitamin.
When I was a child, I was free from societal confines and ludicrous expectations.

I was a free spirit, wild and untethered.

It is unfortunate that many of today’s children will never experience such a liberating childhood. They are too busy being strapped down securely in their car seats, frying their brains on electronics and eating organic food out of BPA free Tupperware. One day they will long for excitement and danger. I hope they wear a helmet.

© The Flip of the Switch, February 2016.