Thursday, July 22, 2010

Where I Went

"Where did you go just now?" he asks, with his soft voice and kind eyes.

"What do you mean?" "I'm right here."

I'm confused.

Knowing that I'm capable of leaving the kettle on the stove, boiling away unattended, I'm a little panicked. Did I actually get up and go somewhere, out of the room? Shit - I'm wandering now? This isn't good.

"I'm right here", I re-iterate.

"But for a split-second, you completely checked out. Your eyes just shut down; you did a total disconnect."

I shrug sheepishly. "Maybe I had one of those mini-strokes - do you smell burnt toast, too?"

I half-smile, hoping this quasi-lame attempt at wit will throw him off this current line of questioning.

But, alas - no.

"Remember we talked about your rich inner life?"


He pauses. He's waiting, patiently, in his professional way, for me to fill in the blanks. I'm not biting today. I know where this is supposed to lead, what I'm supposed to say. I'm tired. Too tired to lift my leg through that hoop.

Different strategy. Fill-in-the-blanks turns out to be a bust. Sorry, man.

He starts anew. "Can you tell me anything about this world of yours? Your..."

"Narnia?" I whisper quietly, almost just mouthing the word.

Immediately, I concurrently feel guilty for being smug and difficult and pleased with the perfect description.

I've never really delved into Tolkien, and - truth be told - don't have any burning desire to do so, but somehow, nevertheless, the idea of a secret private world (accessed through the back panel of wardrobe!) is very appealing to me.

" world..." I pause for what seems like an hour as I scroll through the perils of too much disclosure...

"It's rich, it's real, it's encased within impenetrable concrete walls."


"Sometimes, the door creaks open, just a crack. That always ends up being a mistake."

"Most always, it remains sealed shut.

Hermetically sealed.

Any exposure to the outside world threatens to vaporize everything - it's so beautiful and fragile to begin with.

Harm and destruction can only come from letting anyone in."

"But I know how to tread the paths mindfully.

I know how to gracefully hold the spirit just so.

I know how to soothe the hurts with tender eyes and gentle touch.

Just me."

So, there you have it.

I feel deeply. I fear much. I bruise easily. I trust rarely.

And finally - finally -

I am becoming okay with it all.

That's where I've been.



  1. I absolutely loved this from the moment I first read it. Thank you for sharing this piece of who you are, this page from your lifebook.

    I'm glad to be here with you for this journey!

  2. Ti: My deep gratitude to you for giving me a safe place to initially set this down. I will never forget this kindness.

  3. Meg: You and I have walked long paths, for sure. There are days I just wish that I could do the 'I Dream of Jeannie' nod to my destination, rather that usual circuitous route it is necessary to take.