Permission , in a letter- Freedom in a sign.

letterskey

I knew when I started to blog everything would come pouring out and some of the things I have to write about will be met with resistance and people will tell me hush.

People don’t want to talk about the Taboo , the unknown, the things that have hurt them , and some will say this is not for me to talk about.  My daughters fight with Bi-Polar,  my mothers fight with depression and anxiety.

It is important for you to know this is my perspective, I don’t know what one person feels , you don’t know what I feel – unless I put it out there for the universe to pick it up and carry it away from me.

I come from a long line of writers, tho none published or known by most of you,they are none the less writers, story tellers, visionary’s .   If someone wasn’t writing about something in my family then they were singing about it, all words, all different ways of expression all with the same result.  LETTING GO.      You type something out, you release it from yourself, you talk about something you release it from yourself, you sing a song or write a song you release it from yourself.   All forms of therapy, and god knows what the world needs now is a whole lot of that.

My Aunt was an amazing writer, although in her print she says ” I do not write books, I write letters”. Wow, could she write a letter, she sucked you in  at the first paragraph and left you wanting for more at the end.  She could take a Sunday morning in church and turn it in the funniest thing you have ever read, she could take a simple foggy  morning and bring you to tears with her explanation of it.

For years people told her to write, she did but it stayed within the confines of those she felt safest to release it to, afraid of the backlash, afraid of opening old wounds, afraid of hurting someone’s feelings, afraid of being called a liar.  But nobody could have ever called her a liar, because what she wrote was her truth.   How she saw things, how she processed things, the things that haunted her; the ghosts in her closet.

I have her letters sitting by my desk at home and everyone now and then a voice speaks to me to pull one out and read it, I never take the first one, I always let my fingers rustle the pages until my heart tells me to stop.  This morning I was thinking about all the thoughts above, how I might offend some people, some people won’t agree with me, some people will want me to keep the secrets under the covers, and then I picked a letter and it went like this.

MAY 17, 1999 a letter written from my Aunt to her long time correspondent and cousin:

“Well, wow, I am surprised to find myself telling this to anybody.  I’m trying to remember whether I’ve ever told it to anyone else, ever, and I don’t think I have, except in the most offhand way, treating it as a joke.  And if I were to give the old demons free rein here, I would delete this whole thing for the same reasons, probably wondering what you would think or if you would misunderstand and think it’s foolish , or whatever.  But I am not going to do that.  I’ve just told the truth, just an old story that had some long-term consequences , and I am just by God going to send it as it.”

Of all the letters I could have picked today and believe me there are hundreds, this is the one I picked and read .

This morning driving of all the things I could have seen , I saw a bald eagle ( a sign of another I will sometime tell).   These are the signs the universe is giving to me today:

Freedom: to tell it as I see it, not for what might happen that I  will hurt someone’s feelings or someone doesn’t agree with me, for hope that in reading something I write someone connects to it , has said it before, has felt it before and is thankful that they are not alone and someone else feels the same way.

Permission: To let the words go beyond my safety gate, beyond those I know love me and know me and know my reasons for writing about issues and thoughts, letting them go to the universe to see who they ping off of, who they resonate with, who else will laugh with me, cry with me, scream with me.

Permission in a letter from the keeper of words in our family. I am taking the sign and by GOD, I am just going to do it.

The fact that today is the biggest keeper of our Freedom does not fall on deaf ears, it is as I write this: The Fourth of July.

The fact that my search for an image to attach to this post brought me to one of old letters and a key- coincidence? Perhaps,    Fate? Maybe.  All things aligned and crossing right now, I think so. ( Just my thoughts remember…..

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