Sent Away Into The Wilderness
It took me a long time to realize. I am not a goat. Sent away into the Wilderness. To wander. Alone.
When I was eight,
Pain laid both hands on my head,
placing the full weight
and the shame
of Pain
on me.
Then Pain sent me
by his own hand
(the world crashing against me does not care)
away into the wilderness
to wander
Alone.
The goat. Sent away into the wilderness, to wander. Alone. To carry the weight and the shame of Pain. It was my role in life now, I knew then. It takes most people years of searching before they know what they want to do when they grow up. But I was told when I was little, so I needn't bother searching. I was a goat. So when I encountered the weight of Pain and the shame of Pain, it was my job to be ladened with it, and carry it. Into the wilderness. Wandering. Alone. When it was too much to bear for someone else, Pain would, by his own hand, place it on me. And I was to take it. Carry it into the wilderness. And wander. Alone.
An especially lonely goat, I was mischievous. And loud. Calling out companionship. Attracting attention as I wandered in the wilderness. (The world crashing against me does not care.) Alone. Giving notice, that I would carry. The weight and the shame of Pain. That I would take on. Being a good little goat who didn't complain or whine or question why. Just carrying the load away into the wilderness. Of Missouri and Maui. Wandering. From the wings of the dawn to the far side of the sea. Alone.
I was all the time sad and angry and confused and angry and depressed and anxious and so angry all the time. All along beating myself on the back for, all the time, being so sad and so angry and so confused and so angry and so depressed and so anxious and oh, so very very angry. I chided myself for not being able to handle the load. Laying my own hands on my self to transfer more weight and more shame, from Pain. And I took the weight and the shame of that, too. For not being a good goat. So I tried harder. To handle it better. I exercised. To be a stronger and healthier goat. I read. To be a smarter and more capable goat. I went to counseling. To deal with the sadness and the anger and the confusion and the depression and the anxiety. But none of it helped. None of it was ever going to help.
And then one day... I bent down to drink from the water. Water I had been to before. Oh, so many many times before. The water out where I wandered from Missouri to Maui and back. Alone.
And finally
I saw
a reflection
Baring Beauty
And now
I see.
I am not
a goat.
So I came back from the wilderness, back into town. Free. From believing I am a goat. But I forget because I just do. Sent away into the wilderness to wander alone. Until I bend down to drink from the water. And see. A reflection. Baring Beauty. And I return to town. Proclaiming, "I am not a goat."
But I'm oh so tired. Of people not believing me. Laying hands on me and my family, transferring on us the weight and the shame of Pain. Sending us away into the wilderness. To wander. Alone. Where we go. Bearing Pain. And bend down. Baring Pain. Drink from the water. And see. Our reflection. Baring Beauty.
And I get it. Sometimes. Because Pain is heavy. And its too hard to handle alone. And it hurts. The weight of it hurts and the shame of it hurts. Because we aren't meant to carry it into the wilderness. Wandering. Alone. Because we aren't goats. But we forget. That we aren't goats. And we all transfer Pain with our own hands onto others forgetting that we are not goats. We all do. Me. My family. The entire town. We do. And we carry it. The weight and the shame of Pain. Out into this wilderness. All of us forgetting we are not goats. Wandering. Alone.
But if only. While I am laying hands on someone, sending Pain away into the wilderness to wander. Alone. If only. I could remember to run. And catch up. And say. "I'm sorry. You are not a goat."
So here goes.
I am running
To catch up
with you
to say
I'm sorry.
I am so sorry.
If I laid hands on you
placing the weight and the shame
of Pain
on you.
If I sent you by my own hand
(the world crashing against you does not care)
into the wilderness
to wander
from the wings of the dawn to the far side of the sea
Alone
I'm so very very sorry
Please hear me
I'm sorry...
You
are Not
a
goat.
And if only. When I am sent out into the wilderness to wander. Alone. Bearing the weight and the shame of Pain. I will remember. To bend down and drink from the water that runs so deep in this wilderness that stretches from the wings of the morning to the far side of the sea.
That I might drink from those waters
And see
my reflection
Baring Beauty
See me
being carried by
The Goat.
Who already bore all the weight and all the shame
of Pain
of the world crashing against us does not care
and carried it
as far as the east is from the west
once and for all
The Goat.
Baring Beauty.
Is not me.
©2017 JWhitman All rights reserved
