Saturday, July 14, 2007

Half Life

I have been in this place for several days now...a between is a place I have rarely, if ever found myself in the past.

I have a difficult time remembering the events of my life, but the emotions of life, my life...

I do remember those.

My memories lie in wait for me, down a moss covered stone corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. These doors when opened (there are some that have never been re-opened), lead to the many pathways of my past, and, the memories/emotions that fill them. This almost endless corridor is filled with light and shadows. The shadowy corners have been at times very difficult to illuminate. But our eyes adjust to differences in illumination, thus as my wondering gaze adjusts, I am then able to discern the deeply inset doorways lining this passageway of memories.

In addition placed high above this many doored corridor, there are windows. Many mullioned panes allowing occasional beams of light to filter through them. In these fractured trails of light, I can see minute particles glittering as they float weightlessly through the airy light. These I hold dear, they are emotions, that have not been locked away with the more traumatic memories. Each mote imparts the 'good' feelings that define my life, the living I have done. Laughter, childish giggles, snorts of laughter, impish delight, passion, pure happiness, simple pleasures, desire, joy, tenderness, love, contentment, and peace abide within these particle filled beams of light. Once my initial enjoyment at seeing these dancing motes of light have been re-incorporated into my heart, I can also see past them. Then I am able to see the many old tattered spider webs, fluttering in the corners or from the ceiling. Trapped within these webs are the darker emotions, the ones I don't often wish to remember, whether they be sadness, regret, anger, fear, envy, failure, greed, or the terrors. But, these too, must be they are a part of who I am also.

My memories are emotion.

I am emotional being, I am ruled by my emotions. I make decisions based on how something, or someone feels. Conversely, I may be unable to make a decision due to overwhelming emotion. The emotions become so intense, I become lost in them, and cannot think clearly. Logic finds me a difficult place to rest.

For many years, I thought I had hidden away my deepest emotions, building another edifice to hold them. But they were always there, in fact I now know, there is a special door at the end of my memory corridor, that leads to the vast river stone walls of the turret I built to keep my emotions at bay. Now, the door is always open, the lock has been removed, those protective walls are open. Open to the light, open to the wind, open to the rain, the storms, the thunder and lightening, open to the snow and ice, open to the cold or heat. There is a well-worn path from door to tower now. The walls are always available for me to hide behind, until I feel strong enough to face my fears and uncertainties, or any other strong emotion, but no more, will the door be allowed to stay closed. I want it to become a huge obstacle, almost an impossibility, for the emotions of my life to be hidden away there again.

All of these thoughts, on how I deal with emotional turmoil, on how I remember my life, have led me to what I feel today. I am experiencing something I am beginning to call half-life.

My emotions have been all over the place in recent months. Varying intensities keeping me on edge, in the midst of ever constant quandary, I have been battling the waves and undertow of emotion, and often felt as if I was drowning.

But now, I find myself in an area I am not quite familiar with.

There are many substances in our world that must slowly, ever so slowly fade away, before they are completely gone. In essence, their half-life.

Is it coincidence, that I have passed the half-way point of my expected life span, and that I also feel as if my life is currently a half-life?

I am experiencing the half-life of a relationship, my marriage has ended, in response to that, I feel married, but I do not feel married. I love my husband, but I do not LOVE him.

I am experiencing the half-life of being a mother. My children are basically grown at ages 21 and 17. Their need for me has lessened in recent years, and will continue to do so exponentially in upcoming months.

I am experiencing the half-life of fear...I was filled with so many fears, and uncertainties for so very long that I became lost in them. They are not all gone, but they have lost their intensity, they have lost the ability to rule me. There are still within me though, in their half-life.

With all of this, I am filled with a psychological ambivalence, which in a sense is a half-life emotion in and of itself. There are positives and negatives carrying equal weight, thus, I at times am not sure if I should trust my instincts, those gut reactions that have ruled me for so long, or distrust them.

Basically, I ask myself. Am I hiding? Am I ready to move on? Am I waiting? If so, what am I waiting for?

The song on replay during this feeling of half-life. ~A Whiter Shade of Pale~ Annie Lennox


X. Dell said...

Interesting way of putting the divorce process. Perhaps, the half-life will be brief for some, longer than others. I guess it depends on what kind of stuff you are made.

Fiona said...

Sits with you, in limbo, in complete understanding. I am only now finding out that the promise of a promise holds with it the biggest fear of loss. Big hugs

Sunny Delight said...,
The divorce is a large part of it, I think all those going through divorce feel so...but there is so much more...I am at a standstill in life right now...a waiting...I have this restless itch to be moving forward with my life...yet due to the divorce I must wait...yet the divorce is what gives me that freedom to move on and explore all that I have always wanted to explore...the ultimate ambiguity.

Sunny Delight said...

"the promise of a promise"

Yes, most definitely that feeling of limbo...I send you friendship, love, hugs, and faith...I have faith in you.