“We are each of us angels with only one wing; and we can only fly by embracing one another.”
-Luciano de Crescenzo
Growing up, I was taught what a lot of people in my culture are taught: independence. There was a push for it as a child: make the best grade, win the science faire, run the fastest. I was told to go out into the world, strong in my sense of self, solid in self love, before even thinking about loving another. I was told that I cannot love anyone unless I love myself first. And I was told that I have to be whole in myself, and to remain a separate and whole individual if I am ever with someone. Marriage is two complete individuals, not two people completing each other.
On the one hand, I can now step back and realize that the people telling me that all my life, are not exactly idols I want to become like. And I can see that what works for one person, does not work for everyone else.
But it is very hard to override the lessons I was taught as a child. It does not help that the living situation I grew up in forced me to turn inward and shut off; my biological father was a binge alcoholic, and the bulk of my life was spent with me trying to not be noticed by him, or anyone else. Surviving. That is what I know how to do. This actual “living” thing is new for me.
And I know this is all just a lot of information that does not seem particularly pagan, or tied to the Minoans, or even relevant. Except, it is.
When you are taught that you are supposed to be all these things that are just not you, it is hard to be anything but lost. Hard to not feel like a failure. It is a vicious spiral downwards that I take time, and time again.
I thought dependence was one of the worst things that could happen to me. Shortly after I realized that was not the case, I also realized that I am not dependent: I am interdependent.
I cannot function properly without my partner. And he cannot function properly without me. And not only is that okay, but it is how we are made. This beautiful, interweaving dance between us ripples, and spreads, and creates, and renews. It repeats itself, time and time again, life after life, a continuing recurrence of our myth played out for the world to see – for those that are looking for it.
There is so much more I want to say. As you may have noticed, I have not been saying much at all lately. It is not that I have lost interest. It is that I am scared. The thought of writing causes panic attacks, but I want to push through them. So I am sorry for the quiet, and I am sorry for the rambling and lack of insight in tonight’s post. I am trying. I will get there.