Building Walls

The walls we build around us

to keep sadness out

also keeps out the joy.

Jim Rohn

The walls were necessary for my emotional health.  They protected me from hurtful measures of others, not realizing the pain was always trapped inside.  The walls could be lowered when I felt safe enough to do so.  They could go up or down, much like a garage door manipulated by a remote control.

There were all kinds of walls:  short walls, tall walls, walls with windows, and walls that were re-patched with great regularity.  The walls were really never the same, joined together with different colored bricks or differing mortar.  They were strong though, and that is where I felt safe.

The walls were my protection, protection I felt I needed; however, I never once considered the harm I might have down to someone left standing innocently on the other side. These walls of mine, they kept everyone out.

Strong winds, storms, earthquakes, or any force in life can crack or take walls down.  Too many times to remember, when life happened to blow my walls down,  I dusted my self off and climbed out of the remaining rubble.  I could always wash off the dust and debris, but some how the scars of survival remained.

It is only now, so much later in life, that brick by brick I am taking the walls down ... all of them.  It is so uncomfortable, this feeling of being vulnerable and so unprotected.  This has not been a conscious decision on my part, but rather a growing need created by a crack in the foundation from the built up pain.  The walls cannot hold it any more.

While excavating, I examine each brick thanking it for protecting me for so many years.  I reach for understanding how this all began and how I can prevent it from happening again.  Although exposed, I welcome the fresh air as it blows the dead past away; and the sun warms my heart as it ushers in the new.  I know that night will come, that dark will fall once again, but I long to see the smiling moon and to watch the stars lead me, once again, safely on my way.