Retrieving Resolution by La Vonda R. Staples
Embracing difficulty can be one of the most torturous and the most facile experiment ever undertaken by a living being. If you are dead inside you’re stagnant, stuck and sterile. Production is not the proof of life as there are many productive people who are not settled, peaceful, or even content. There are very successful people whose presence never gives an aura of bliss to their surroundings. I believe you have to be awake, conscious and engaged in life in order to embrace difficulties. I am a person who has lived through adversity and have arrived at a point of peace and love. I’m at the point. I don’t know if I’m in the door of the room.
Looking back there is no reason for my survival. Many people who share my history have not lived to tell the tale. The evil of men and women unfortunately consumes far too many as victims. Being consumed is not an assessment of weakness, rather, it is a sign that there was not enough light to vanquish inhumanity. There’s always someone watching. There’s always someone who hears. We are all created with the potential for utmost destruction and greatest creation and it is incumbent upon each one to listen to the voice which speaks to the greatest good.
I have been taken for granted. I have been unappreciated. As a child there’s really nothing that can be done alone. A child needs a protector, a guardian. I’m speaking of the adult me. I’ll tell you how I was at fault: I let it happen. Once I knew better. Once I knew what I wanted. Once I knew how I wanted to be treated. I let it happen. I continued to go backwards into misery because I was so very afraid of goodness. You see, I think that I was afraid of the responsibilities which goodness brings. If one receives trust, one must give trust. If one receives laughter, one must give laughter. If one receives love, one must give love. Anything other than reciprocity is exploitation and misuse. There are people, lovers, friends, and maybe even husbands that I should have left where they stood. No regrets as they are all part of my journey, my transformation, my evolution to this very day. There’s only one relationship in my life which requires introspection and that relationship is the one I have with my mother.
We’re not speaking. And that’s a good thing. She likes to hurt me. Since I started writing a book about my life I’ve grown comfortable with the fact that my mother says hurtful things and doesn’t apologize. That’s a victory all by itself. If no one ever reads this thing I’m writing there is a treasure worthy of kings and queens in what I’ve learned up until now. I know that what she says hurts me. I used to think that I could do something to make her stop. Grown folks can’t make other grown folks do anything. But that’s only one thing I’ve learned. Here’s another. I’ve learned that I had to be present for this torture. I had to call her, go over to her house, or take myself to a third party who was either like her or associated with her. If I truly loved myself why would I have ever kept hoping for something which had never been? Why? Because we have been lead to believe that bad children are not loved and good children are beloved. In my mind, her acceptance of me would mean that I was “good.” I went about my personal life repeating this exercise over and over. I would make associations with people who didn’t mind telling me what I had to do or what I needed to do to simply breathe their air. But those outside people really aren’t the problem. The problem was me and how I felt about myself.
I had never, ever seen myself as a creator. You are a creator as well. You create your own world. You choose who populates that world. You choose the behavior of the citizens of your world. You choose every aspect as you are the architect, the implement, and the arbiter of every decision with resounding finality.
Am I saying that there are no victims? No way! If you walk down a street and some person just spontaneously punches you in the face. My dear, you are most certainly a victim. But if you are standing at a crossroads (and the first conversation with every person you meet is indeed a crossroads) and there are signs which say, “Face Punchers Live On This Street” and there are people walking in the opposite direction from you with punched faces, and the face puncher himself/herself announces to you, “I punch folks in the face” and you stay – you are not a victim. Yeah. It’s that easy. It’s that voluble. It’s that evident. There are very few instances of victimhood in personal relationships. In international or political relationships there are more victims than can ever be named. One man drops a bomb and 10,000 men die. Can’t do that in some boyfriend/girlfriend, mommy/daughter, son/father connection. You can, however, become a source of pain to everyone with the misfortune to be brought into your world.
I’m so dedicated to fixing my world before another living creature is appears at my crossroads. I’m not talking about Hollywood hugs, kisses and confessions. I’m talking about my real life. I’m directing the leader of my free world – me – to examine that first relationship between my mother and myself and search it for a logical, peaceful, and lasting resolution. I’m willing to go back into that hell and find the small, precious gleam, that something that was taken or lost that I desperately need in order to go forward. The resolution, to be quite honest, lies within me. The leader of my free world is poised at the precipice of world peace. Just a little more searching. A little more dredging. A little more digging. I might get there. I might not. Right now, I’m just happy for these beginnings.