from up there
A few months ago my dad and I climbed the Dom Tower in Utrecht.
A day or so into his visit, my very best “I’ve got it together” face crumpled as I let him in on the daily gauntlet drill:
Why does the fear of failure paralyze me so completely? (self-loathing)
Why am I so stuck – AGAIN – on things I thought I had conquered? (frustration)
Why have my twenties have been rife with all manner of drama? (self-pity)
Why do my problems seem so huge and so damning? (despair)
But then we climbed the 465 steps up a 14th century church tower, and things got….smaller.
I don’t know what I would do without the older, wiser watchmen perched in the rafters of the tower, peering out with long-term perspective on my landscape.
Do you have a watchman/woman up in the tower, deflating the drama and reminding you to be kind to yourself?
This is a poem I wrote with a similar questions in mind. My Watchman is Jesus Chirst, and this poem was written about him. Hope you will read and enjoy! http://tales2apoint.wordpress.com/2013/02/07/true-healings-truth/
Do we send Dad more often, or just ask you to climb the tower? Whatever the process, amen to the outcome — “kind to yourself.” Wow we would vote for that. We would stuff the ballot box; we would falsely register and stoop to outright fraud. Two votes for tower time, but please count that as “thousands of votes” — a rough approximation. Just get up there now and then…
Amen, Val! Your Dad is awesome. And you have a lovely, lovely way of communicating thoughtful insights.
Beautiful, Valerie! The pictures, the prose, the perspecive, the person – and THE PERSON, whose Name itself, is our High Tower.
Lovely pics. Call your dad whenever you want. That what we dads are for. Ken
Val, it reminds me of a phrase I read from some wise person — perhaps one of those mystics — “Do yourself no harm.” I am trying to learn how to do that as i can identify with all of your hard shells. I am reading Brene Brown’s book Daring Greatly. Hoping to find some gems in there to help me.
Oh, Brene Brown! I’ve been reading her book “I thought it was just me,” and her insights on shame and vulnerability have been a balm to my fearfulness.