socio-political self-help and stuff
i thought i’d share the meaning behind my most personal poetry performance to date… favorite sweater. thanks to all of you for viewing and sharing – the video set an all you need are seeds... record for viewing and it’s become very clear to me why.
we all wear the sweater, metaphorically speaking. our sweaters come in different colors, styles, sizes and are worn for different reasons, for different amounts of time… but they all do the same thing. lull us into a sense of comfort with painful events that prevent us from opening up to new, healthy experiences.
i’ve had several of these sweaters. a collection of them constantly knitted since first entering my mother’s womb. i wore them on the playground, to the classroom and office and beyond. along the path to my authentic self, i’ve tasked myself with locating these ill-fitting garments, remembering from whence they came, and burning them – as you would with an old flag. no longer pledging allegiance to things that don’t feel good. to my skin. to my soul.
the one i share on stage in favorite sweater was written during a recent relationship – yet it applies to every relationship i’ve experienced. friendships. familial. every single one of them. inside, there’s been a part of me wanting so much to be able to open myself to another soul. to be able to tell my truth. to do the things that come naturally to mind, without fear of the outcome. outside, i’ve noticed myself doing the same self destructive things i’d always done in an effort to protect myself – shying away from those who only wanted to go deeper with me. and i couldn’t dream of letting anyone in because the past had taught me that walls were necessary – ‘less i’d be hurt. so i chose the road always traveled, for, if nothing else – the scenery was familiar. especially the end.
at this point in my life – beyond the initial sketch of this poem – i’ve chosen a new path… one that takes me beyond the same old road that leads absolutely nowhere. one that, for the sake of authentic love, i open my soul to hurt and joy and peace and pain – without fear of any of those things when they come. one that leads me beyond the places and faces i’ve known.
and yes, in the poem, i’m screaming out to someone else to help me take off my sweater. i’m okay with that. i know that it’s ultimately up to me to do things differently. but. the woman that i’ve become knows that she might need help along the way with plucking a rose thorn or two every now and then. she’s unafraid to not only admit her need, but is also willing to ask for it.
happy healing, y’all.