The Windowsill

If I’m being honest with you, and myself, as I sit here with many thoughts floating about the abyss of my brain, then I must say how hard it is for me to express my feelings due to the fear of judgment. This is something I have always struggled with, but as I’ve aged it has become clear that the worst judgment comes from my own insecurities and the fear of failure.

I love to write and have found writing from the heart works best for me if I want to communicate my truth properly. So with that being said, here are where my thoughts and memories have been lingering…

My childhood. It was not one I often like to dwell on because it wasn’t always warm and cozy but it was mine and helped form the person I am today. With the pending doom of my fathers’ health situation, I seem to have moments of the past pop up and replay as if it just occurred.

In 1977 Debby Boone had the hit song ‘You light up my life’ and I was a very headstrong young girl that was resentful and rebellious towards strict parents. I do not recall the incident that warranted the discipline and punishment I received but I do remember the aftermath of my feelings. Sitting in the windowsill of my bedroom with my knees pulled up to my chin feeling powerless and full of hate, as I often did after being disciplined, I rewrote the words to the song everyone was singing to someone they loved. I remember it was summertime because the windowscreens were in and the trees were full of leaves which blocked part of the backyard. As I sang my edited version of ‘you light up my life’ that was not flattering to my parents and how they chose to discipline me, below the canopy of leaves stood my parents listening. I can remember thinking the birds could hear me and understood what I was feeling as they flew away to freedom. I never sang that song again, the original or edited version.

I’m not sure why this particular memory surfaced but here it sits waiting for me to extract the lesson. I carried a lot of unnecessary anger and hate around for quite a while thinking “I’ll show them”. What did I show them? I showed them nothing more then what they showed me which were things that were shown to them. Life can become a vicious cycle when it comes to replaying or recycling what we learned in our childhood. When I say learned, I mean what was shown to us by those we loved and relied on to help us develop into adults. Many years ago I began to see that my hate and anger was only hurting myself and family. I made the choice to let go of it all and put my energy and emphasis into the love and goodness that surrounded me. It was a game-changer in the way I began to view the world. It opened up forgiveness within myself and allowed me to understand so much that always angered and confused me.

I suppose the image of that little girl sitting in the windowsill full of anger and hate surfaced to remind me that such strong emotions can be tampered out by accepting happiness and love. I purposely used the word accept because it is a choice in which you choose the way you live your life out to the very end.