Deciduous
We were planted early - my siblings and I -
these saplings made of shoulds.
Those tending to our care
Themselves young and unaware
Of all the fear-based rules silencing our coulds.
The garden around us full of beautiful roses
Their thorns often opinionated and disapproving
Alongside the occasional judgmental sting
of pollinating bees
Reminding us harshly of the roles we were to play
And not the kind of play like
Childhood tea parties under the Weeping Willow
But more of a DIS-play
Meant to prove to a watching world
That they were doing a great job
That we weren’t a mistake
Because their egos were at stake.
Annual shoulds and should nots
Planted alongside perennial love me, love me nots.
Imprinting my heart as a bouquet of forget-me-nots
To carry with me
in perpetuity.
Decisions made in my best interest,
with seemingly little actual interest
in who I was becoming
And more vested in containing
My unruly vines exploring and creating.
The intention to shelter and protect
Against invasive weeds and birds of prey
Led to the disconnect
Of damage caused
As poison sprayed season after season
Crept inside our growth rings
Suppressing the natural cycle of release
And expansion that growth brings.
As an adult, I brought my entire garden patch with me
Transplanted
Planted with many varieties of trans…
transitions,
transgressions,
transactions
translations
and transparencies
All hiding my true self like an evergreen mask.
To avoid the venomous shame
Of not doing it “right”
I chose to abstain
And gave up my rights.
Deprived of water
I find myself drought resistant.
No sap flowing. My branches twisted.
Guarded and distant.
Begging to just be sufficient.
I’ve been held captive willingly against my will.
The echoes reverberating inside me still:
Not enough. Not good. Incorrect. Out of order.
It took a long time to finally recognize
That those voices inside my head were not mine.
The inscriptions in my heart
Carved by lovers leaving their mark
Like heart-shaped scars
In the layers of my bark
As if a map for my instruction
Unintentionally marking a path to destruction.
Shoulds are directives.
Consider this: I’ve been mis-directed.
I awaken
To my location
This now densely overgrown woods
Planted to protect my shoulds
The darkness of the canopy unjustly justified
Feeling stuck in the muck
Of self-judgment, now SELF-victimized.
So I made the choice
to find my own voice
Outside this imposing forest that has kept me small
I know there’s a space where I shall stand tall.
My first thought as I plan my escape
Is that I need a compass, a map, a guide
Someone or something other than myself
Upon which to rely.
It seems the fear of choosing unwisely
Planted so deeply inside me
Is trying to follow me out.
My lack of trust in myself, was devout.
This overgrowth containing false beliefs
Created an UNDERgrowth of my Self
Which I understandably grieve.
It turns out, I am a deciduous tree
Clinging unhealthily to someone else’s leaves
As in the things they LEAVE behind in me.
It is time to release all that is no longer useful
Dropping what is not mine and waiting for Spring.
I own my part
I chose familiarity over my heart.
I release all condemnation
And gift myself a fresh start.
I have NOT fallen short
Of where or who I “should” be
On this societal timeline
Where comparison is queen.
My methods of measurement were simply built
On people who were NOT ME.
I begin to hack away at the underbrush of beliefs
And tangles of habitual roots.
Finding relief
As I relinquish all absolutes.
My freedom is linked
To trusting my own instinct.
Jumping over, tunneling under, zigzagging around
My exit strategy…? My destination…?
The possibilities abound!
My path isn’t out there, somewhere
On the other side of these woods.
It exists right here, right now, within my coulds.
I turn my face toward the Sun
Giving gratitude that I have now begun.
My fullest expression resides
In my freedom to choose
Darling, Spring has sprung
And I have begun to BLOOM.
