Just Open the Box
The box may be small, but inside there is an infinite amount of hurt. Small things. Big things. Insignificant things. Consequential things. Comments made snidely, comments made with intention, comments made out of ignorance; they get stuffed in the box so tightly that sometimes you have to force it closed.
Then you forget the box even exists.
Then it opens up without warning.
Everything, the weightless yet bone-crushingly heavy contents spill out in front of you. They engulf you, they start to climb up your frozen legs, they seep into your warm, pulsing blood, they suffocate, and they meticulously destroy you; only because they can, only because you let them. The box may be small, but inside there are twisted, heart hardening feelings. It’s easy to let them continuously destroy you.
Then you force it closed again, as always.
Then all is quiet, and you are swayed to believe there is peace.
I hate the contents of the box. The toxic burden has built up for years. There’s been hurt, blame, and flippant words like, “you don’t know us.” On the outside of the box, though, I am screaming, “YOU. DON’T. KNOW. ME.” For years I have not been listened to or understood. For years it’s been only what [they] want to see, hear, and say. Not anymore. The box? The contents? They have been exposed. Now I can release them and refuse to let them hurt me anymore.
Then I realize the box needs to be left alone, on the ground, in the middle of nowhere.
Then it can be filled with happiness, and not negativity.
******
*I want to thank my cousin Pauline for giving me the photographed box. Coupled with the writing theme for {W}rite-of-Passage, I was able to start to verbalize some feelings that have been stirring within me.
Tagged: Philosophy, Photography
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11 Responses to “Just Open the Box”
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The photos compliment your writing beautifully.
You are.
An artiste.
Also, gouda.
That is one beautiful box… and I love the story
Beautiful. You said in few words and beautiful photography what I’ve felt, still feel from time to time. (Hugs)Indigo
I am so glad you’ve been able to verbalize.
Beautiful in every way. I hope you have an abundance of happiness and joy to fill that box.
You have, in me, a willing and eager audience. What would you show me? What would you tell me? What would you have me say to you? I am yours to command.
Beautiful box!
Over the years I’ve come to learn that the contents of the box are the root memories of aloneness, fear, shame, helplessness, worthlessness, taintedness, hopelessnessm and confusion. Every time one of these root memories (along with the belief held in it) is triggered, the box flies open and its contents do strange things, inevitably causing more pain.
Most people think that the best method of avoiding the pain is to padlock the box and hide it far, far away. Not so. The only way to bring healing to each memory is to acknowledge it and address it with love. This sets them all free to become memories infused with the light of truth, no longer hidden in a dark place, but open to enjoy the beauty and uniqueness of the box that carried them.
brava
This is a wonderful post. I have a box just like that. The photos and the box are so pretty. (I don’t think my box is very pretty and I don’t know how to open it.)
you never fail to move me. ♥