December 14, 2007

picking bones

When owls devour their prey they regurgitate the bones and other parts that are indigestible to them. There is an entire science devoted to reconstructing these pellets, just as archaeologists reconstruct ancient civilizations from the pieces not reclaimed by man or nature.

Isn't that the essence of blogging? The swallowing of life and regurgitation of small pellets of information? At times leaving the bare bones for others to pick over and reconstruct their vision of our lives. In years, what will someone make of my leavings? The skeletons I've stripped bare for the public? What about the parts that I keep, digesting and masticating? Some of those will finally become indigestible to me.

I have a feeling that nothing anyone can unwrap about me is very shocking or surprising. This 18 month or so journey into myself has done as much as a lot of therapy has in the past. It's helped me hold a mirror in front of me and face some simple facts. Among the most comforting and then the scariest at the time time is that I'm not alone in the fears that I face. One of the things that feeds the monster is the feeling of isolation and freak-dom that I thought I felt because of the things that happened.

So, I continue to face my mirror, getting down to the true me - bones, skin and all of the terrible parts I never wanted to digest.

1 comment:

  1. I've never thought of blogging in these terms, but it really rings true for me....You are not alone. :)


i feel as if each comment was between us as we sat and sipped something warm....i love to hear what you're thinking.