The Elephant in the Room


It takes a very long time to feel an elephant in the room, if is very dim.  You have to feel each part of the majestic animal.  Most people don’t even attempt to do that.  If you have reached out towards the elephant in any way, if you have sought to understand what others are afraid to admit is even right in front of their faces.  If you have tried to get others to understand that the elephant was there or worse yet persuaded them to help you convince everyone there is an elephant.  If you are one of these “Elephant Touchers,” I have a gift for you.


I know that you are an enlightened person if you are trying to tell others about this big scary elephant in the room.  First of all, Elephants are intelligent loving, and highly socialized.  They are incredibly intelligent in ways that only the most spiritual of beings seem to be.  They are a full functioning matriarchy and respect and mourn their dead.  Instead of “No one wants to talk about the elephant in the room,” we should really say, “hey guys!  Look at that gorgeous elephant in the room.”


To me it seems that human kind is preoccupied with what might come.  We take our hurts from yesterday, and propel them into our fearful imagined movie images of our future.  For instance.  I have had recurring dreams all my life.  There are about five different main ones.  There is one where I park my blue childhood bicycle in the forest, back up, run really fast and take off flying.  It was never like Peter Pan, but it was a nice slow glide to freedom.


I had a less pleasant recurring dream about a father figure taming snakes in a pile of boulders in our backyard.  The lightning was flashing, sky dark, and I was a little girl with my nose pressed up against the glass door catching glimpses of my childhood horror show.  I go back to the dream just to see if I can put up with it.  That is some risky dreaming.


I have had divergent influences.  The Atheist and the God lover.  I found myself on the God loving side of life, and don’t roll your eyes, grateful for it.  In any case all of the voices from the Atheist to the God Lover and all in between laid the framework of  my steps to sanity, or is it Heaven.  Or is it sexual satisfaction, better health, well behaved children, or perhaps the ability to take a vacation or afford private school.  Really what is the difference.


During my tutelage with Good and Evil Teachers, skilled and otherwise, and talented, I progressed as quickly as the amount of love would let me.  I fought to have something to teach the children like my favorite teachers have and I admired these teachers, spiritual, psychological, and professors of arts and sciences.  I love all of them and have tremendous gratitude for the folks that God put in my life to cause change and teach me about love and myself.  I am no disciplined student, or teacher for that matter.


I don’t believe in discipline in the punitive sense of the word.  I am too hard on myself to have some sort of schedule of every day flogging that most humans have.  I cannot go to the gym at a certain time each day, or a job for that matter.  I like to see my husband and children each day, but after that I really can’t or don’t want to see people every day.


I used to love crowds and loved my social life more than my home life.  But luckily in adulthood, my family life is way better.  Now that I am honest, people don’t like me as easily.  It is such a very small percentage of people that like the truth after all.


You, though, dear reader are honest.  People are angry that you brought up the elephant and you still admit you see him.  You are a leader.  You don’t depend on others.  You are not a people pleaser.  You have stood your ground and carved out a place and will to live.  Not the humdrum life that you have lived, or the painful, or even the pretty good.  You are about to live the life of a superhero, perhaps even a vigilante.  You will be powerful too.  Very.


What is that you say?  Power?  Yes power.  Something I never needed or had much of.  I did not search for power except for the survivalist sense of the word.  At some point, I capitulated to Holy Spirit that my ideas about my own life, and humanity were silly, probably laughably.  Sad maybe that I had to live in a fantasy because of so much trauma, but still funny to see how willful I am about denial.  I am not that good at it though.  I lost all of it at 40.


Denial was always my best friend.  I am not a drunk, or a jet setter nor do I really want all that much beyond  being a mother and wife and writing and otherwise creating.  Denial and I did a sad dance, for all these years, and finally I lost my battle with truth and accepted it.

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