Wolves & Cement

non-subject: the only way
AWW ~ may 11, 2011
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It's time to write. To write. To write.

My sacred space.

Writing changed my life. Well maybe not the writing itself, but where the writing led.

I was so sick when I took pen to paper back in 1998. I poured every emotion I could describe and every thought I could grasp onto paper.

I wrote about how horrible I was - as a mother, a person, a believer.

I felt so trapped in my body ... and in my shame.

My shame stemmed from standards unobtainable to any human - to prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

I fell incredibly short and did so publicly. I had twice broken my sold-out commitment as Way Corps, as one of God's crack troops. I had AWOLed on my two different interim-year assignments as Corps. I had let down the people to whom and for whom I was responsible. It was a reprehensible act, to turn my back on my vow, to not pay my vows. It was better to never vow, than to vow and commit a lie.

I was a lie.

Within a year after my first AWOL, I developed asthma. It continued to worsen taking me deeper and deeper into the world of lung disease, steroids, and immune disorders. I wish such upon no one. The machines. The needles. The surgeries. The suffocation. The fear. The feeling of the cement in my lungs, a nightmare that was always awaiting. Not to mention my sinuses being totally blocked with the firm gelatinous swollen pearly polyps.

That night back in 1998, 16 years from my first asthma attack, I ended up at the hospital...again. I was trying to write my way into breathing...but it didn't work....on that night.

But that hospital stay and the one a few months later, were my final emergency visits with subsequesnt hospitalizations due to the cement in my lungs.

I eventually did write my way to breath.

So what's wrong with me now? Why am I stifled in my writing? Why do I feel this muzzle on my heart? But it's not a muzzle from which anyone is pulling a leash...like a dog may have on a muzzle.

What is the purpose of a muzzle anyway? To keep the animal from injuring another.

Is that what I fear, that I will injure another? Or perhaps that I will injure myself.

I've read that when certain animals are caught in a trap, they will gnaw off their own foot to gain freedom. I think wolves may do that.

To muzzle a wolf would be its death. For then it could not eat ... nor howl at the moon.