The Roots of Our Labor: An Open Letter to All Those With No Roots to Call Home
We are told that with the right amount of nurturing and love we can grow to become anything we want. We are told that with equal amounts love and support, we can grow up to be healthy full-fledged adults. But what about those of us who do not come from nurturing homes? Those of us who have been beaten to the bone, shuffled like a deck of cards in and out of foster homes? What about those of us with no one who really loves or cares who we become? What becomes of us?
Growing up I had intermittent periods of stability followed by extreme doses of emotional, physical, mental and spiritual abuse dispensed under the guise of discipline and “love”. By the grace of God I managed to grow up and settle into a career helping other people process their trauma, which for the most part has afforded me a comfortable life. But it is not without its setbacks as everyday I struggle to make sense of my painful past and some days I struggle to get out of bed and face the day. Some days the pain of not having solid roots is too great and on those days I must cover myself with Gods love and remind myself that I am enough and full of purpose and worth.
We always talk about the proverbial rose that grew from concrete, emerging despite the odds set against it however, we never really talk about just what goes into being that rose and how much torture one goes through just to rise above not only the concrete floor but also the blood-thirsty thorns of self-sabotage that prick against our soul and threaten everything in which we have worked so hard for. No one talks about that struggle. We just enjoy the beautiful by-product, the victorious aftermath without factoring in just how much pain is still left in that rose and how much it could have bloomed so much better if placed in the right conditions. We always talk about the importance of having roots, but what happens when your ability to bloom is rooted in a past that is full of trauma and abuse? What about those who do not have roots? Whose roots are dysfunctional? How does one bloom with no real roots to turn to? We can turn but so many pages in a history book before we discover that we are alone, kept company only by what we can imagine. The support that we need is contingent upon our ability to read and comprehend feeling but feeling has never been an intellectual process. Sometimes you don’t want to intellectualize solutions. You want something real. A familiar love that you can feel.
Right now, many of us are beyond words and need to feel the actual support of those close to us. Having a healthy functional family is a blessing most people take for granted. As we speak, there are many who do not have family support and yet are expected to be healthy contributing members to a society that never contributed to their growth and well-being. Such ones are told to do the best they can with what they have to work with and some do, learning the tenets of survival, getting along as best they can, living off the reserves of their own perseverance while offering support to others in similar circumstances but, you best believe there is an exorbitant price to pay for living life on the fringes of societal neglect. Most struggle with various emotional, physical and psychological issues as a result of interpersonal abandonment.
For those who have no roots to rely on, there is a strong undertow placed in their soul that they have to rage up against constantly. They are children of the vortex constantly being pulled into their own demise. They fight but sometimes the fight becomes too great and the will to survive just doesn’t match the pain. This is where having roots comes into play. They remind you of who you are and where you come from. They restore the imbalance in your confidence. They let you know that there were others before you who went through similar struggles, people who fought and won battles similar to yours. Roots let you know what stock you come from and inform your future. Truth is we all get lost, tossed hither and thither by the confusion in our own soul. Roots are what help ground you and remind you of who you are. But sadly we, the neglected ones are left to imagine our roots. We are left to impute the imbalances and imagine that we come from people who care. Such self-delusion is what helps us get through. The supportive denial of just how great our struggle is might be just what helps us push through.
Sometimes while thinking with sad mind, I am tempted to think that to really face the trauma of my upbringing and really come to grips with all I have been through would mean I would no longer be here. But this is grief mind and because I know these thoughts are a product of trauma and familial neglect, I offer compassion and tenderness to the wounded child inside of me that cries out for a little more love everyday. In providing this love to myself, I become the parent my parents refused to be and that makes me capable and deserving of my life because unlike most who have love just handed to them on a silver platter, I have earned my heart and my right to my life. I have transcended the limitations placed on my heart. In youth, we are given life, beauty and heart but as we age, we earn every bit of those gifts and earned gifts are so much better than gifts given without effort because an earned life, earned beauty and earned heart fosters a deeper appreciation for life and begins the process of creating a foundation we can always return to in times of uncertainty and doubt. It is in the earning that we discover our worth and in our worth we discover the roots of our labor.
Originally published at http://luisspeaks.wordpress.com on July 23, 2020.
