Entirely Ready

A familiar feeling slowly reveals itself as I stand at a distance, struggling to comprehend the lackluster pall that has been stuck to me, stifling my vibrancy. 

I recognize her. Peering through the dense layer of dust that nearly obscures the holes in the dull gray veil, I see her emotionless face and heavy eyelids peering back at me in quiet resignation. I can taste metal on the back of my tongue and smell the musty overwhelm that has overtaken her. 

She is proud and strong and perfectly able of mind and body, but is held by invisible strands of blame, criticism and neglect. 

"Rise UP!" I shout. 

Her heavy body shifts and settles back into the deep hollow created by the weight of her recognition that she is here again and has been for some time. The physical depression that was painstakingly formed in the place where she rests, welcomes her back. She has lowered the sludge of her exhausted state into the sticky suction once again. 

Why now? 

Divorce did not dissolve this dreadful illusion? The sense of freedom from years of criticism, blame and neglect was only temporary? Why this powerlessness now?

The pervasive termite gnawing at her foundation has been surfacing daily wielding outrageous insults to her moral fiber, ludicrous accusations, falsehoods and ego-driven rants. 

Perspective! Perspective! This can not go on much longer, can it?

Surrounded by the support of those equally outraged, I keep showing up. Just showing up and going through the motions of a life well lived. Gratitude on my lips every time the panic arises. Nonetheless, she suffers the weight of those who rally and cheer and exalt in his pomposity, and who spit in the face of intelligent logic and moral character. Despair engulfs her, knowing that no reason will come to so many. 

Skating the feelings of outrage and willing myself not to fall victim to righteousness and division, I am exhausted from the sensory overload of my nation. This proud daughter of a veteran is humiliated by the seeming helplessness of a nation held captive. I painfully uncover the division that exists within me. She and I are battered by its relentlessly subtle torture. 

The depression has welcomed her back to soothe the assault to my senses. She shifts and shifts and shifts, struggling to free herself from the suction created by this subtle abuse that threatens the sunshine of her spirit. 

She sees me peering in and her tender heart, with fierce resolve, locks to my eyes and wills herself once more to pull away the veil and cast it skyward to incinerate in the brilliance of the sun. 

"Rise UP!", I shout. "For all that you hold dear desperately needs your spirit and your vibrancy to be present and awake! For the light of Grace and Dignity to reflect back to the world the promise of Hope. Yours must join the light cast by so many to illuminate the shadows and prevail beyond the darkness created by a mere man and his desperately unfortunate quest for worth. A quest motivated by the multitude of voices competing within their unique sticky hollow place, behind an equally dense, musty veil of overwhelm."

 

Richmond, VA.