you & me

My Teenage Daughter, the Merciless Mirror.

She is you and she is me.

She is caught, trapped, pinned and pained.

She has fallen from the grace of childhood to be held fast in the belief she is flesh, bone, blood… and victim.

Victims are the most violent sort, believing the world supports them not. “I am right… I am right… God damn you! I am right!”

I see myself. I see her. We are the same. She holds the mirror vehemently, mercilessly and unapologetically up to my face.

The reflection: the darkness within.

I have spent a lifetime running… always running away from the blackest burnt base of my heart. I squirm, writhe, scream and claw to get away…

Yet, when I quietly concede, I know — she has come to set me free. It’s a fierce sort of grace. An angry teenage daughter — a merciless mirror.

Before time began, when we were both whispers afloat a warm breeze, she agreed to help me, she agreed to show me myself… all of myself.

Time began. Shapes changed. Nothing became something and I was born. Later, she was born unto me. I called her sweet child, she called me mother. In my unconsciousness, I turned away from myself and taught her well.

The time has come. She must uphold the agreement.

She must become my merciless mirror.

The images are so assaulting: all that revolts me about myself — about the world — now forced into my face like an admonished dog who just defecated on the clean floor. The scene is so loathsome I must shield my face and peek through my fingers as burning tears flow down my cheeks.

In her sea of bitterness, filled with hungry ghosts ready to tear, rip and slash at my flesh, there floats a seed of innocence. Can I find it? Can I see the glint of fear-drenched sweetness?

Can I love her anyway?

In the age-old war between mother and daughter, can I lay down my sword and remove my armor?

Am I strong enough to look, to see without defense? Can I surrender my arrogance, my conceit and allow myself to be broken? Am I strong enough to let her destroy me?

In defenselessness, can I remember who she is? Can I stand in the white-hot fire long enough to clean that which reflects back to me from the merciless mirror? To wipe away the illusions which swirl and churn murky and dark?

Can I cease my constant scouring, scrubbing and efforts to change the mirror and turn, instead, to the one seeing, the one casting the image?

Can I quiet my own rage long enough to hear?

Can I remember? Can I recall?

Perhaps she is something unimaginable; something timeless. Born of love so pure she will be my merciless mirror so I can see what needs cleaning, what needs washing.

Am I strong enough to let my heart break completely? For me? For her?

She is worth it, you know.

In humility and gratitude I give her back to life, to love, for she has never belonged to me.

I let her go… and I will never let her go.

*****

{Join us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest}

 

Comments

Abby Pingree

Abby Pingree

Abby Pingree spent the first seven years of her life in a hippie commune. She is currently an author, hospice nurse, mother, and student of life. She has made friends with her own experiences with drug addiction, bulimia, dishonest and dodgy behavior by simply telling the truth. She explores these experiences in a book titled: Completion, by C. Abigail Pingree. She now seeks an authentic life. She writes for Elephant Journal and blogs for Huffington Post. She can be found on Facebook and Twitter.
Abby Pingree
Abby Pingree

Latest posts by Abby Pingree (see all)

Abby Pingree