Trickster

Without resources to deal with the trauma of my youth, I buried it. It would surface again, when as a young mother, I sought for a deeper understanding of life. I searched for the light and found only darkness – the truth of my own victimhood.

I did not see how my obsession with healing – the focus on my own wounded soul – overshadowed the needs of my own loved ones. The victim becomes the abuser: an unforeseen twist.

Only now through age and openness do I see the folly of my intentions leering back at me. 

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

30 thoughts on “Trickster

  1. I think all of us (or at least most of us) are works in progress, V.J., and nobody is perfect. I also have many regrets and wish I could travel back in time to correct some of my missteps, but I fear that’s part of being a human being.

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