April 15th, 2006 by C.A. Dubois

» Different But The Same «

Hello Everyone, David here. I’m sorry but Cyl is currently busy and unable to get to her blog at this time. She asked me to share something she had prepared for this blog. I agreed. Cyl’s made a friend while being here, one she is somewhat “close” to. What you’re about to read is not written by Cyl, it is written by her new friend. Cyl cried when she read it. Cyl has the written permission of the Author to publish this. All Cyl asks is that no one steal it. But for something in writing to effect Cyl to tears well, That rarely happens.

So via me, via Cyl, here are some words to ponder:

“Different But The Same”

Different But The Same

Words come hard for me. To make my thoughts into your words; it is a process. I am not good at this. I will try, for I want to write the words. I am told some will read; some will be of knowing. That is my hope. Some will see.

I am told many get afraid. I am told of many fears a great number of people have. I am like others. I too fear. Fear is very strong. Fear can force. Fear can hurt. Fear can play on your mind. Fear is great. Fear rules. For my years, I thought fear the greatest force.

Language is great as much. Power is in words. Power is in thoughts. Power is in hearts as hearts feel. I know this. Power of the self. Power of your words. Power of your thoughts and feelings. Such power is greater then fears.

Getting the power to grow over the fear, that is my story.

Where I am from we do not speak of such things. Always in whispers, but no more. Truth of the whispers is never known. It brings much fear. In your place they are spoken, boldly. This brings me awe. This brings me fear. This brings me hope. Free words, free thoughts, free being; I want these things.

I grew knowing I belonged to another. This is how it is done. I know it is not your way. That is allowed.

When I was placed with He, it was not him I feared. The whispers, the stories, the not knowing; that gave me fear. But his eyes were kind; strong but gentle, warm but distant. Through my eyes of fear, I could not see his. Fear is walls. We had two walls; his and mine.

At once I liked him, he who I was bound to. Yes, he spoke words and I was to listen, but he spoke words together – not as force. No one told me he would ask. He did ask, much. When he asked, he listened to me speak. He heard. That is a power – to hear. He had great power. He heard much.

I was unsure of his hearing. It frightened me. It pleased me. It made me smile. It was not done. He did it, but I was told it was not done. For that, I watched him. As a hawk watches the mouse I watched him. It could be a test. It could be false. It could be a sign of worse to come. I did not know. I feared his listening. But I spoke together too. I liked his smile.

I grew alone. I had a caretaker. My caretaker prepared me for life. I am capable. Things of this; of He and listening, I was not told. Taught not to be of the whores, taught not to be of the tainted; yes. Of the smile from being listened; no.

When he spoke, he used my name. Always his tone was kind, warm, gentle. When he laughed my name, I feared. None had laughed my name before. Another spoke it was good but I did not know. Only when I laughed his name did I feel it was good. Still I feared.

I knew at the time of rightness, I’d be his. I knew there was more to do to join us. I did not know what that would be. All I was taught is he would lead me. Do you know the unknown; the fear it holds? I do. It is great. It stills the air in your lungs. It screams in your mind. It hurts. It blinds. It forces tears and fleeing.

I did those things. The fear was great.

So great it was; I could not see his eyes. It took another, a woman to speak; to sooth me. I am grateful for her. Of all she spoke, one hung like the moon. She spoke of his fear. I had not known he feared. All I saw showed strength, ability, pride. No fear could I see. No fear did I look for. I did not look because my wall of fear I grew too high. I made my wall of fear as high, as thick, and as strong as I wanted it.

Once I knew of what was to come, I grabbed my fear. I shook it hard. I said away with you. I loosened it enough to meet his fear.

It takes not one thing to break the walls of fear. It takes many. Words must come. Some words sound harsh. Some are no more then the utterance of a breath. Words of sadness, strength, and beauty. But not words alone can breech fear. Touch is needed. Be it touch of hearts or touch of the flesh. Both are better, but one can lead the way as another catches up.

If you take the touch; the words, and combine them with seeing into the soul of another – you will breech any wall of fear. We know.

Two met in fear. Terror not easily let go of, agony deeply seeded. His first touch? Of my hair. Soft, tender, hesitant. It hurt. It grew more fear in me. He barely breathed my name. I had to look at his eyes.

My first touch? Of his shoulder. He looked in pain. I asked if he were. He said no but he looked of pain. He looked to my eyes.

Do you see? It was not touch, it was not words; it was not touch and words. Both led to seeking of the soul. It is in the soul honesty rests. Peace, love, life lives there – in the soul.

Our world has much words and much fear in it. I am only one woman. Were I to teach one thing, I’d teach that words and fear have power; yes. But it is the soul where our lives lie.

A.B.T.

© A.B.T. – 2006