I never did stop escaping. A sensitive little girl, a face and a voice unkind: I escaped. I never did stop escaping.
I am safe and loved in this place in the sky. I am safe. And I am loved, so loved, without a thought, without a care. I am me, and this is the sky. We are here. We are here.
I never did stop escaping. All around the children played. They showed me their world, and I made it what I needed it to be. I made it magic and I made it kind. They didn’t know their world was magic and kind. I did. I knew.
This is where my real friends live, where my heart lives. I can make the world what I wish it to be, here. The unkind of the outside feels like ice on my skin. I wish only for sun. I ask only for sun.
I never did stop escaping. They called me names, they spat on me, and for those moments I was there. But I never did stop escaping. I never did stop escaping.
This is where I am. This is me, so beautifully. The deepest ocean, the saddest stream. This is where I am.
Fragile would be an excellent word to describe me in the face of the western world’s bullying culture. I’ve been hearing the same internal whisper over and over for the past few weeks: fortify, Brooke, fortify, says the quiet voice, barely heard above the noise.
I’ve been away from facebook for a very long time, but over the past week or two I’ve gradually dipped a toe in to see how things are going. I’ve loved reconnecting with my lost people, I won’t lie. And things have been lovely and positive for the most part, which has been a nice surprise.
But. There was that one moment. The one that derailed me, the one that had me questioning: what do I do with the way I feel about this? What do I say to myself to help it feel a little better inside? Apparently the humans have come up with a term for the ache I came across. Cancel Culture, is it? Where a person is shamed for holding a view that is not generally agreed upon (and therefore, cast out of society, via pitch fork) is the general gist of it.
In this case, I came across a post which mentioned a man ( out of respect, I’ll not name him ) who has received quite a lot of back lash in the past due to his alternate views regarding health and wellness. The post was celebrating his downfall (I can’t remember the specifics) and the comment below the post was so vicious, it actually ached within me. It really had me wondering. Are we really still there? Slavery may have been abolished, but apparently we are still bullying the innocent (which is much the same thing, in my eyes.) Many a time in my life I’ve considered becoming a hermit. Tonight, I edged ever closer.
I would consider myself an extremely forgiving and compassionate person, but I have to say: I am struggling to find compassion for the bullies of the world. I try so desperately to see the higher perspective, to be there for everyone while we muddle our way through the chop, but it’s so hard. It hurts to say that, because I really do feel that every person is beautiful in their own way, even those I don’t necessarily resonate with.
I was bullied very badly early in high school. In fact, it was so bad that the whole class cheered when I was called out of the classroom on my last day at that particular school. My Mum thought I was going to kill myself. I was happy enough to snuggle up with the joys of my imagination until it all went away. Still, it’s clearly done some damage.
Perhaps this is why the current day bullies, trolls (whatever you might call them) feel so horrible to me. Perhaps this is why I find it very difficult to wait out the course of their abuse in the hopes that they might one day learn kindness and understanding via the consequences of their bullying ways.
The interesting thing is (and here’s to the absolutely mind boggling paradox of life): I am placing the same judgement on these bullying individuals as they have placed on that poor fellow who just kinda doesn’t believe what they believe. Life, hey. I’ll leave that old chestnut with you to mull over a while.
The nature of the universe is chaos. It is not black and white, and this is where us humans do seem to struggle. We seem to need the polarities and contrasts to help us to fully experience life. The differences in life create experience, and beauty, and deep, deep life.
I just wish deep, deep life was a little gentler, sometimes.