via Daily Prompt: Betrayed
I’ve been reflecting on the word ‘betrayed’ overnight. Initially, I thought it was the perfect word to vent but this morning I waited patiently for dawn before writing. It arrived as expected, in the sky, and in me.
There’s a predictability to life around me when I’m home. The currawongs, the kookaburras, the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of larger birds above as they fly to the lake. The excited screeching rainbow lorikeets, flying this way and that way. The cooing of the pair of doves that have a home in the back yard. The sweet fluted call of the willie wagtail. If I concentrated, the mild hum of the freeway in the far distance, before the sound of fridge took over. I allowed each to grab my attention, intermittently. Alone in the quiet of a big home, I did not feel betrayed, not even a hint of rancour. I realised how blessed I am for acknowledging I had the strength to go where the journey took me.
‘Till death do us part’, is part of the wedding vows, taken literally and certainly one I was raised with but came to realise, sometimes, one ‘dies’ while still breathing and for some, that’s when the love story comes to an end. Who ‘dies’ first is irrelevant but having the courage to move on, is.
A colleague recently mentioned, although there is sadness that my marriage ended, I have never spoken about my children’s father, with acrimony. Perhaps, this is why they have such a good relationship with him. I would have to agree. I now see their father through their eyes that have been untainted by mine. They see him as he is. Unplugged. They see the good in him, his humour, and still laugh and groan at his ‘dad jokes’. I can laugh with them too, his humour, his strength and attraction. It helps to keep the affection of early years remain warm as embers. They are careful with their words. They know he is sensitive, and that this is not always a strength in people. I observe how they navigate their relationship with him. They are more skilled at this than I but in those moments when they are less skillful, I step in and set boundaries on what can be said and when. I do this because I have a deep sense of gratitude towards him, that runs deeper than any disappointment I may feel about what we had, and didn’t. Together, we had children we are proud of, and it is on this common ground we have made our peace.
I’ve worked hard to practice the philosophy, what is meant to be, will be. This commitment to healing helps others too. The most consistent feedback I receive from people, is that I have helped them see things differently. Baggage checked, they are free to move on. I know I did and found …
The greenest growth is at the point of pruning.Solitary can be a powerful statement.I no longer look for permanence. Transience is appealing to me. What ebbs and flows, like the breath of life, is a gift. We see this in tides, sometimes shells, sometimes, a forest of boab trees in the sand. I also know a boab tree is strong, and will wait like a friend, withstanding tide and time.At my leisure I read sea stories of ancient times, carved in stone.I’ve learned lessons from migratory birds in flight. And, like them, I now travel light.Cauterised, I now watch the tide soothe ruffled edges, as the pindan cliffs bleed into the sea.My eyes scan roadside for three eyed monsters. They help reconnect to the child in me.A red eye, is a ruby.A ball of ruffled vivid feathers is gorgeous, but …A single white feather, is peace.
May your Easter be one of renewal and hope.
Until next time
a dawn bird