happy birthday mom
my mom's birthday and father's day come one after the other.
every year it is an opportunity to be a let down, to see myself as daughter and feel a failure there. each year it is a chance to center my being around their joy and feel as though there is something meaningless in me because they do not feel joy. every year, i try buy fail miserably.
this year, i thought i would feel better about it. if mars hill teaches you one thing, it is that your mom hates you and your dad abuses you in some way. armed with this knowledge, i assumed things would be different.
today, on my mom's birthday, i have failed her and am tempted to say i am, therefore, a failure. this is the subjective i to her thou. on the anniverssary of the following poem, i am reminded of the important truth that i am not, in my essence, subjective to thou - or if i am, i am truly and ultimately only subjective to God's Thou.
now, a poem i orignally posted a year ago today:
A Winding World of Seeming Subjectivity
You pound down the stairs, eyes glued to the floor
You enter my soft silent morning with penniless words
I am a cold, quick daughter running for the door
Not quick enough
You peer over my shoulder with unwanted unedited commentary
Your gaze is a bullet aimed past the plank to my busy speck
I am a hurting, lost daughter running for a door I thought was opened but know is closed
You are a mist in the air an accidental memory
You enter my young hopeful morning with a theiving recollection
I am a resiliant, lonely three year old behind a baracaded door
Not strong enough
You peer past my humanity with unloving, unsavory contact
Your affect is a lingering, often forgotten bullet imbedded for 20 years
I am an angry, protective older sister of a girl too long lost behind a door blocked with hatred
You raise your gaze to meet mine, eyes begin to well
You enter my red shouting morning with penniless hope
I am a kind, trying daughter standing in the door
Too quick
You peer past my wishfulness with unsatisfying unsatisfied brokenness
Your gaze is a bullet aimed away but penetrating an already bleeding heart
I am a disappointing, hard working daughter standing in a door that swings too slowly shut
You invite me to your bank terminal
You enter my rushed important morning with pennies
I am a nice, smiling no-one running round a revolving door
Your voice reaches my ear through airwaves, ear glued to the phone
You enter my winding hopeful morning with willingness
I am a weary, immature approximation of a boss fainting through a door way and on to the floor
You rush your fingers across keys and tap a button
You are absent in my lost over-used morning with penniless un-expectation
I am a caffeinated, disappointed approximation of a friend standing miles from a doorway
You look past me answering phone call upon phone call
You enter my filled unfulfilled morning with absent stare
I am a worn, un-encountered unknown stepping in and out of a heavy door
The morning ends as I am careless and heavy
I run you over
Your insides come out
Your tiny feathers and now crushed legs and beak
Break
My
Heart
And draw my tears
I feel sick and want the morning back
or erased
either will do
There is evening and there is morning
A new day beacons on the horizon
You’ve entered each morning though I gaze past you into abyss
I am an ever-blessed beloved
I am a forgiven, for giving daughter
I am a protected, beloved child
I am a valued, created someone
I am a faith-given, faith filling servant
I am a sought after, intimate friend
I am a rejuvenated, known continual encounter
Never truly subjective – simply seeming so
Or maybe subjective only to your great light-filled presence
2 comments:
Hi Becky. Forgive me if this is weird, but I am a prospective student and was perusing the mars hill website and thought checking out the blogs would be a great way to get the truth of what the school really offers. I have to say in a sense it looks too good to be true. The main hesitation I have is that it is a little too much in the story aspect. Sometimes I get the idea it's very focused on self, too much maybe? I'm doing counseling with a graduate from mars hill and when you wrote, "if mars hill teaches you one thing, it is that your mom hates you and your dad abuses you in some way." it worried me a bit because I wondered about that. I realize I'm interpreting your own story and trying to apply it to everyone, but I was just hoping you could bring some clarity to a confused but hopeful prospective student. I realize this is rediculously random of me, but figured since all ya'lls blogs are up on the school website, you must be open to random people like me. Thanks for the help.
fisrt, thanks for commenting and asking!!!!! it is not ridiculous or random or ridiculously random!
second, forgive my "your mom hates you" comment. it was a gross generalization and an inside joke my close friends would get but not really truth and certianly not the entire truth.
i think, though, that some of your concerns might be valid. there is a ton of focus on self and some times, it's easy to get lost there. however, the thing that makes mars hill amazing is how it seeks to lead peopole to encounter others.
as an mdiv student, i can say that my time at mars hill and even some of that self focused time, has enabled me to see the other better and to love with more depth and compassion than i had dreamed possible.
i really needed to know and see and name how my mother had failed me before i could truly be present to any relationship. my life was lived in fear of her or of becoming her. so, i needed to hear and know that so that, in the face of the other, i could stop imposing my mother's face (or at least recognize when that is happening). now, i can even love her better and have, amazingly enough, grown closer to her and delighted in her in a way i hadn't before because now, rather than looking for the person who has and wilkl hurt me, i look at her in search of God's image and Christ's presence.
does that make sense? do you have more questions? feel free to email me eyeheartseattle@gmail.com
thtanks for your questions! and, again, sorry for the cyber cynicism.
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