when the words hurt more than they heal

Some of you - maybe most of you - I think know what I write. But, do you know why?

Because somewhere tonight, there are little girls and little boys crying themselves to sleep. Right now. Probably in your neighborhood-certainly in your town. They are crying because they feel like nobody in this world loves them. They feel all alone. And they blame themselves. They feel that they are utterly unlovable. That they are bad. Or that they have some inherent defect or flaw that prevents others from loving them.

I learned at a very early age that words delivered magic on white sheets of paper. Most especially when those sheets were bound together to create a flowing cadence and rhythmic dance. A book, that I could hold in my hand--it was magic. Those little black symbols were a healing inky elixir.Those little black symbols spashed and danced on a page, loving me when nobody else did.

I knew by the age of 7 that I was able to create that magic all by myself. I could make my own words dance on a page, and I made that my life's mission to always choreograph great works of art. It was also in 2nd grade that I first read a poem by Emily Dickinson that has become my life's credo:

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

The muses were never meant to creep anyone out. Especially not someone who suffered the same kinds of abuses I did. They got me through some really tough times...the first muse I'm aware of popped into my life around age 11. I didn't label this inspiration as a "muse" per se back then, but that's exactly what it was.

When I learned that my muses were a little creepy for an incest survivor I'm close to, I was reminded of how clowns freaked me out when I was little.

My muses are clowns.

Maybe that's all they are.

My whole purpose with the writing...with the muse concept...was to let even one little girl or boy know they aren't alone in this world so they can sleep gently tonight. So they can discover their own muse(s) and know that their life has a purpose. Maybe by tomorrow they'll forget--but if they get just this one good night's sleep, then I'd be somewhat satisfied...and would feel that I haven't spent the past 40 years in vain.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I need some time away. Some time to think about what my life is for. Thank the powers that be that I have this amazing space just behind our house where I can lose the world and become one with the universe and figure out why the hell I'm here. It's called the woods, and I'm so lucky I can soak in its vibrations any time I choose. Anyway...I probably won't post a blog for a couple of days. Maybe a couple of weeks or months. I'll be back though. I'm like a fucking phoenix. Every time I die, I come back bigger and badder than before. Until I rise from the ashes again, I wish you all peace, love and happiness. I'll see ya soon.

XXOO
Cheri