day 88
at times i am the pile of leaves
easily scattered with the lightest breeze,
but mostly i’m the lighthouse
weathering the roughest storms,
steady in gale force winds
yet, sometimes, i long to topple,
for the bricks to crumble,
and move fluidly like the snake
or soar above like the hawk
3.29.17
In 2017, I challenged myself to write a poem a day. This poem above was one of them. I’m not sharing it because it represents the best poem that I have written, but rather that this metaphor is one that I’ve just recently begun to understand.
What is a lighthouse actually? The literal meaning is:
But how does this meaning apply to me? What exactly am I trying to communicate? While a lighthouse can represent different things like providing guidance, a light in the darkness, and a form of rescue, what it represents for me personally is what I like to call “the challenge of being strong.”
A lighthouse is built to weather the roughest of storms without breaking apart, without losing its light. In many ways, as a strong person who has faced much adversity of life, I can relate to this definition. But the “challenge” part is that others only see me this way, they don’t see the tender side.
Everything in life has multiple perspectives, but as a culture we are more comfortable seeing things, people in particular, in two dimensions versus the whole. Comedians like Robin Williams, for example, were seen as funny, happy people because they brought us joy. But as Williams’ unfortunate suicide demonstrated, the other side of funny is deep sadness. He was most certainly that as well.
We don’t want to see the other sides of people because that forces us to acknowledge the other sides of ourselves that we don’t like, are afraid of being seen — sides that don’t fit with the narrative we tell ourselves about who we are. If Robin Williams can suffer from depression, but the world simply saw him as an hilarious performer, what are we hiding?
To come back to myself, I have learned from an early age that I am the only one I can count on to take care of me. I grew up without the proper protection and nurturing. I spent most of my childhood in the hospital or being volleyed between two antagonistic parents. That was all I knew so I adapted to survive and as I survived, I grew stronger and stronger.
Now, when people hear even part of my story they react with amazement that I got through it. They shake their heads in disbelief and gaze at me like I have a superpower. I do not. I can’t explain how I got through what I did but I did. As stories go, mine is quite remarkable, hence why I am writing a book, but there will always be more traumatic stories to be told.
So it’s not about who went through the worst, by any means, it’s about the perception of who you are as a result. Just like comedians are not always happy, in fact most suffer from deep depression, those that portray strength can also be weak, make mistakes, and suffer from self doubt or low self-esteem. We are not two dimensional.
Recently I experienced a heavy emotional storm battering at my foundations. I felt low and weak and unsure how to go on. But I did go on, I pulled myself out of the muck I had sunk into, I walked forward.
I am grateful to be able to do this, I appreciate my strength, I really do, but it occurred to me that the person that created that storm knew that too. They knew they could rock my foundations and I’d still stand strong. That realization left me with the only option to move on, move away from that person. Just because I can ride out a storm, doesn’t mean it leaves me unharmed, it doesn’t mean that I can continue to function under that duress.
So I leave you with this, always remember there are many dimensions to a person whether it be a friend or a popular figure. Understand that you do not know the myriad of things that person might be dealing with. Treat people with compassion and give them space to breathe. Maybe then they will show you their hidden sides sometime.