"In many ways, poverty is a state of mind."
Emma Bromon, ~Founder of Liberty House, a halfway house in New Orleans for homeless girls with children, or who are pregnant.
This quote inspired me tonight, on an evening where I certainly needed to feel inspired by something.
It made me question the way that I feel sometimes, that sickening out of control emotion that keeps me awake some nights.
Nights like last night.
The feeling that carries over into days like today,
when I feel burned out, tired, and emotionally bankrupt.
If this wise woman is correct, and physical poverty is a state of mind in a way, then I ask myself,
what of this backlog, this weight on my heart that I'm feeling...this overdrawn, pathetic state
in which on days like today, my dreams exceed my optimism? What about emotional poverty?
Have I really been left destitute by the years of guilt, depression, and 'putting on the new personality'
that I survived as a Witness? Am I left spiritually, emotionally, impoverished after leaving the WTS with
no chance to escape?
Are we condemned to an existence of little, sparse because we have learned to
believe that we don't deserve to live a life wealthy in happiness, rich in love and joy?
Have we heard too many times that we are not, can not, and never will be enough? Are we
left believing that we are undeserving, unworthy, and of less value than the rest of
Many feel that way. I have. Still do, on days like today. Though I manage to fight it
off on most days, today I still feel it.
If it is true that poverty is a state of mind, that means that
it can be escaped.
I refuse to accept that I am doomed to live a future of empty cupboards in my soul
and barren emotional prospects.
I will live richly, because I stubbornly insist that beneath my pain, is the capacity to give love,
and receive it. Even if this ability seems buried beneath the weight of the life I am leaving behind
again and again, on a daily basis.
Life is renewing, and spring comes whether you live in splendor or in squalor, I suppose.
So tonight I'm reminding myself, in the hopes that
tomorrow morning I'll be able to see my way more clearly than I do at this moment.
I choose to live in emotional splendor, in richness of the soul, in the light of my future, not the darkness of my past.
I've left the tower, they've taken my family, my youth, my past. But the only way they can
take one more thing from me, one more day, one more hour is if I let them.
I won't let them. Don't any of you let them either.
Love to all,
(Who should probably never write on this little sleep)