My Safe Place is gone.
You know, where I used to hide behind my judgements,
making you wrong;
too naive, too unrealistic,
not seeing things from my perspective.
That place where my beliefs took prominence over yours,
where I could take comfort in my mental superiority,
and cast mental aspersions on your point of view.
Of course I would always be right,
as long as I hung out in that place,
knowing I was safe in my isolation,
untouchable, unknowable, inscrutable.
Many comforting words I would say to myself in that place,
most of them about how I was right,
and everyone else was wrong.
Many of these words were nasty, hypercritical, defensive.
And when I did look out at all the world,
and see the violence,
the slaughter of the innocents,
the death and destruction of our environment,
the desecration of our food supply,
the arrogance, the ignorance, the quest for power,
I could find some solace (not much) in My Safe Place,
where I could rationalize the pain away
with some thoughts or another,
all with the theme – “What’s wrong with these people? I would never do that.”
That is, until I found the war inside me;
until I found a place I had used My Safe Place to hide from,
a deeper place of profound sadness,
and an unshed wall of tears;
of an unexplainable ache,
a seemingly endless ache.
I cried until I stopped, temporarily.
I found no reasons, no stories,
only tears and more tears,
until the walls crumbled,
and My Safe Place was thoroughly exposed to the light.
(It was pretty dark in there.)
My Safe Place is gone now.
When I hear someone speak,
and I wait for the inevitable judgmental thoughts to arise,
they aren’t there.
Where are the rationalizations, the superior stances,
the bitterness of being misunderstood?
Where is my protection?
How can I shield myself from all this pain?
The pain of separation is almost unbearable.
My heart is splitting open,
as I walk around in this world
without the protection
of My Safe Place.