The Hand Me Down: Heirloom Of Emotional Pain

BY DIANNA LYNN JENSEN (AKA LADY PURPLE)

I was sitting at the table this Easter. Looking at their photos on the wall, I started to look into each of their eyes, one by one…this insight came to me…

 

Great Grandma, Grandma, Mom…all those years of sadness, unexplained loneliness,

Emotional distance now coming to life…

 

One generation after another silently speaks the same language offering the next generation the same pain.

It is not a coincidence now I see,

That their inner voices mirror

the images of their heart cry…

Now speaking through their eyes to me…

It is the hand

me

down

Heirloom of emotional pain, never broken until me…

 

The new rules apply to me…

No more denial to live by

I am not attached to this

The particular umbilical cord of generational disillusionment…

I have cut this cord once and for all.

 

I have lived in these reflecting eyes, I was trained by them, I now know…

I look at each and wonder how did they manage to keep it buried deep inside…in their silent

pain…

If I reflect back, I know they did not live it all so well…just as I did not, once upon a time…

I watched, saw, heard, felt their shattered lives and raging, unsilent pain, displayed throughout my life…

 

I was the lucky one, I walked so many miles away…I saw so many contrasting eyes along this path…showing me the hope, the love, the smile in their eyes…I knew I had to let go of their generational pain…

recovery is my game….

Makes me sad

To know they died with these windows to the soul, never seeing the truth of the

Hand

Me

Down…

They left it up to me…

Now I am becoming free…!!

Who am I to ponder the heritage of life sent to me? I AM ME…just the beginning…

Photo by freestocks.org on Unsplash

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It.

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"Lean into the flames. Pray. Sometimes change is just brutal. I pass the last bits of time imagining what it will be like on the other side of the flames. How I will disintegrate into a pile of ash and dust until no remnant of selfhood remains. Break down all the cages. Free at last from the myriad ways I’ve bound myself up in this life. Certain, because I am human, I will create new ties. Fashion a whole different set of cages. I’d be kidding myself if I thought otherwise. But for now, it is enough to pray for the wisdom to spring the traps sooner next time. To not let it come to the fires and the burning again – at least not for some time. When it is done and I am burned to the ground, there is peace. Inside that peace, deep down in the ashes new life stirs. What she becomes is not for me to know or project. Only to witness. An awe-struck observer watching how this magic of being human works. How we can be reborn again and again in the same lifetime. How in spite of – or maybe even because of – the fear, the death throes, and the pain of it all, we rise. Indomitably. Eternally. We rise." —Shannon Crossman of @shann_crossman #holyfire #wakingwild #wakeupanddream #womanonfire Rea more: http://bit.ly/2gfMVjn 
@kayharr73 @ladypantzz @dharmaunicorn @thugunicorn

#HANDMEDOWN

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