In his book, Ten
Poems to Change Your Life, Roger Housden examines this poem, the way it speaks
to us and wakens within us the desire to live more authentically. He reveals the massive change that took
place in his life (ending a relationship and moving from England to California)
and how it changed him. I too,
experienced a moment where everything inside me shifted - several moments,
actually - over the course of this past summer.
It is almost impossible to explain that kind of epiphany, but Oliver
does it so well in this poem.
My marriage was a
fairy tale to everyone, including me!
Which made it so hard to walk away from.
All the voices coming at me, directly and indirectly "Don't do
anything rash," and "is she off her meds?" and "what a
shame." I could have tried harder,
I know this, as I tried and tried for years and years to justify, to reconcile
these warring thoughts that had been raging quietly within me for all that
time. There was a moment, in the middle
of the night, during one of the extremely rare conversations that passed for an
argument, when everything crystallized in my head, and I knew what I had to
do. And it was hard, and sharp and
painful, but liberating too. In my quest
to hold everything together, to live up to that fairy tale standard that Husband
and I had set so long ago - we ourselves barely more than children - I had
forgotten how to live authentically. All
the self help books tell you to put on your own oxygen mask first, and I had
forgotten this rule in the tumult of life.
That fresh air, when I finally breathed it in, was strange and
wonderful.
Over the course of
20 years, Husband and I learned how to walk on eggshells, our lives were a
minefield of eggshells. Every
conversation that might have become a disagreement turned into a piece of
ground that could not be tread upon. We
spent so much time avoiding conflict, watching our feet, that we never looked
where we were going. When I looked up,
finally, I didn't like where I was. And
I don't think he liked where he was either, but that's not really for me to
say. The lies you tell yourself start to
look like truths after a while, I think.
Now I am doing the
only thing I can do, which is save my own life from regret, to examine myself
not in the hazy pink glow of some fractured fairy tale, but in the light of the
sun. Maybe some people could have done
that and stayed married, but I am not one of those people. It reminds me of a novel by Anne Tyler I
read, a long time ago, called Back When We Were Grownups.
Oliver's poem
suggests "the birth of a new self, one not conditioned by the past."
according to Housden. I am finding it
difficult to free myself from the conditioning of the past. I see behaviors in myself, protective,
evasive, self sacrificing - I am aware of them now, in my interactions with
others, in ways I didn't notice before.
They are getting easier to spot, but changing them is going to be a long
process. The whole process of finding
myself, that's what I'm doing here, in my life and on this blog.
It's amazing what a month or so in your own head can do for you. It's just been over the last week or two that I've started to feel like myself again. And you're right; the fresh air is strange but wonderful. Don't lose sight of the fact that you are doing it and can do it. The birth of a new self is difficult, but worthwhile. And I know you can do it just as surely as I know (now, and finally) that I can as well.
ReplyDeleteIf you don't want me posting here, just say the word, but I honestly enjoyed seeing this. I didn't think I would, and didn't actually plan to read it until I talked to you this morning. I'm glad I did. And I still think you're pretty cool.
I'm glad you read and posted. Your perspective is and always has been valuable to me. We're going to get through this. I'm working my way through this book, Ten Poems to Change Your Life, and you're welcome to work through them with me - since we're both changing our lives!
DeleteI think you are pretty cool too.