| This one last piece was published in the December 28, 2000 issue of Spare Change: |
| REFLECTIONS OF A DECEMBER BABY |
| I am one who was born at the dark time of the year, only ten days (more or less) before the Solstice, the return of the Light. Is it any wonder that I can get so scared during this time especially, that this is when I'm most likely to have panic attacks? It may have something to do with the difficult and frightening birth I had (I almost choked on the umbilical cord), and the case of bronchitis I had at two weeks old, just at the time the light was beginning to return, in that bleak subzero weather at that high elevation of the Rocky Mountains. A rough way to begin life; it seemed the odds were against me in many ways. But I was a tough baby and I survived to see the Spring, and saw that life was possible. The best we can do is try to keep busy in the present, so as not to get too panicky about the unknown future. All we can do is articulate what we perceive in the light of our individual minds, to try and connect with other souls who are also afraid of the darkness. And two warm bodies can snuggle together to keep warm--this much we know. If we find any love inside us that could help, we must reach out to someone and try to share it. That's all I am doing. All of this "brilliant" articulation in my writing was only developed because I needed medicine for my fear. People can't stand this much darkness; that's why they will fill it with any kind of light they can find. That's why this season is associated not with its darkness, but with the light people try to fill it with, so they can point to the dazzling Christmas trees and say, "Oh, isn't that pretty!" and forget they're afraid. Candlelight is loveliest when shining through utter darkness. I have been homeless through nine of these Christmas seasons in a row. Now at long last I have a home again, but that doesn't mean I've left the fear and darkness behind. I don't think I will ever forget how frightening it was out there. I still need my Johnny's warm body to keep away the panic in the night. And surely he needs mine. Well, there you have it. As I am writing this it is almost a year after I wrote that last piece. John and I are in our second year of marriage and home ownership. We are still living in poverty, and struggling with deep emotional wounds from the past that will take years more to heal. But we are hanging on; we have a chance and we have hope. And I have a warm dry place to do my writing in. It has been an immense pleasure, and greatly therapeutic, to finally compile all this written material from my homeless years (which I managed to hang onto through all those precarious situations when it seemed I was about to lose everything.) I hope all this stuff will help others who are still struggling with homelessness. For myself, now that I have finally unloaded those years of baggage into cyberspace, I am free to move on, to apply my creativity in other areas that need attention. Please e-mail me and let me know if reading this book has been a help or inspiration to you, or tell me what your impressions were: [email protected] |
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| Our living room window (note the back end of my camper outside!) How fine it feels to be on the inside looking out at last! |