The wind moved

With all the storms going though the south, I’m reminded of one of my more interesting childhood memories.  It’s a little odd, but it’s been significant throughout my life at times.

I was about five or six.  I was outside staying out of the way, which was a coping method I used a lot around this age, and I couldn’t be abused if I couldn’t be found.  There was a tree stump in our front yard.  I had found a stick and was waving it around pretending to command my world around me while a storm was moving in.  My poignant moment I had jumped on top of the stump waving my stick saying “Wind! Blow this way!” To my complete surprise the wind had switched directions and started blowing the way I had pointed the stick.  I laugh now because I was so shocked I fell off the tree stump.

I’ve remembered this all these years because in that one moment I felt like I had my own power over my life and it scared me to death.  At 5 or 6, I couldn’t fathom a world where I had any control over it.  For that moment, my eyes had opened a little and couldn’t comprehend what I had seen.  What should have been an innocent, imaginative time for a youngster was already a hell for me.  Around this same age, I would scout for places to sneak off to or hide in wherever we went, hoping that I would be forgotten.  Looking for a way out.

I’ve learned to accept past is what it is.  I started by accepting the facts, and only in the past few years have I been able to let the feelings from the past come through.  It’s the only way I can process them really; a few at a time.  Too many would be overwhelming to me.

But I remember this day.  The day the wind “moved” for me.  The first day I discovered I could have some control in my world, even if it took more than a decade for me to apply my discovery.


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