200: Fast Forward

Many of us have grown up immersed in a culture that teaches us to be anywhere but 'here'... to feel an emptiness we imagine we must fill from outside ourselves, to pursue what takes us far from our most genuine needs, to hide from one another the effect that doing so has on us. Turning back towards our own lives isn't easy, but it always begins with a choice not to continue to abandon ourselves and, with some simple attention and care towards one another, it is something we can help one another with.

This week's Turning Towards Life is a conversation about ways we can be of profound support to each other in choosing our lives, hosted as always by Lizzie Winn and Justin Wise of Thirdspace.

This is Turning Towards Life, a weekly live 30 minute conversation hosted by Thirdspace in which Justin Wise and Lizzie Winn dive deep into big questions of human living. Find us on FaceBook to watch live and join in the lively conversation on this episode. You can find videos of every episode, and more about the project on the Turning Towards Life website, and you can also watch and listen on Instagram, YouTube, and as a podcast on Apple, Google and Spotify.

Here's our source for this week:

Fast Forward 

The awkwardness of this silence.

Let me fill the space with whatever. Any nonsense is better than this.

The sinking shame of a mistake.

Let me make all the ‘sorry’ or 'back off' noises. Move the spotlight from my disgrace.

The dread of beginning again.

Let me delay just one more day…

The nagging need I won’t admit.

Netflix! Ebay! What’s App!

A prospect dashed by disappointment.

‘I’m fine. I’m fine.’

(Oh God, I wish I was fine.)

And then there are moments,

Quiet still moments

Before my itchy finger can hit the button.

I realise that fast forward isn’t doing what it promised.

I’m still here.

Doubts still perched on my shoulder.

Fear still churning my gut.

3-year-old me still wailing in my throat.

One day, curiosity calls before the dread.

I peel off the 'fast forward' sticker from the button.

There it is in faded red letters...

‘Abandon Yourself.’

The betrayal is complete.

Maybe this time will be different.

If I can just stay still for a moment longer

I can resist the easy fix.

If I can gather up that shaking part of myself and tell her,

‘It’s okay. I’m here. Let’s feel it all together…’

Not to abandon.

To be my own companion.

Maybe this time,

I can choose.

By Debbie Danon

Here’s a link to the poem on Debbie’s website: https://www.debbiedanon.com/blog/fast-forward