Watching Life through the Fog

Photo by Tanya Gorelova from Pexels

 Adoptees often speak about coming out of the 'adoption fog'.  For me this meant the gradual realisation that I had been inside of a fog, for a lot of my life.  The fog can be depression, trauma, repressed shock, unexpressed grief.  There can be emotional, mental and physical symptoms, usually written off as having no clear origin, as if going through the most fundamental loss and fear for life, right at the beginning of our lives on this planet, wasn't enough of a cause.  For me personally, there was anxiety and learning difficulty, as well as stomach problems which dogged me my whole childhood, into young adulthood.

When I emerged from this fog, I saw the pattern of my life.  My incarnation bought sorrow, anger, fear, estrangement and stress to my biological parents.  There were none of the rituals we use to welcome new life in as humans.  The admiration of the beauty of this new little being, the clothing of her in garments made by relative's loving hands.  The flowers, the champagne, the cards, the well-wishes...none of these totems protected my early passage from the world of light to the dense and painful world of life.  This was how it continued.  As much as I craved birthday parties, a big wedding, full-hearted celebrations, I also made sure that I didn't have them.

The joy of belonging to the world was not for me.  It was for other people, better people, whole people. People who didn't cause sorrow and pain, people who deserved life because they bought joy with them.

This was my unacknowledged, unspoken, but unshakeable truth.

Reinforced by my adoptive parents, older, sweet but over-protective and afraid that I would right out there and repeat my mother's mistakes (which of course I eventually did, as I had to, to escape my parents' over-protectiveness...the irony!) I stood back from life.  I spent my young life actually and metaphorically, behind the window, watching everyone else living, loving, claiming their birth right of space on this planet.

I wasted so much of my young life on the belief that I didn't have the right to be here.  I missed out on so much fun, achievement and adventure because deep down, I felt unworthy of it.  My emergence from the fog gave me the gift of realising that I am here.  That's all the worthiness I need to participate in the world.  It happened gradually, a critical mass of healing, forgiveness and the taking into my heart of a simple truth.  That truth?

I am here.

The fact that I am here is all you need to know.  Its all I need to know.  Its all I need to claim a space on this ride.  That I am here, shows that I'm meant to be here.  The Universe welcomes me into life, even if two sad, stressed-out souls couldn't do that for me at the start, nevertheless, I received enough love to keep me alive. And after all of that, I intend to live this life!

Now I am the other side of the window.  I'm out there in my best dress, engaging with friends ( I still struggle with trust and friendship, but that's ok) participating in the dance of life, secure in the knowledge that I belong here as much as the next person, what ever their start in this life.

This is the big one

Im going straight for the jugular, because there's no time to lose. We're here on this spinning improbable globe for a short span. 

There are things to do, places to go ( once the global pandemic let's us!) and people to love, and I don't want you missing out on that for some spurious reason. 

For the reason that two people made a mistake, and couldn't give you what you so desperately needed? For that combination of circumstances, all that time ago? 

For that message you recieved, you inhaled with your first inspiration the message that they didn't want you here. That your very incarnation was causing problems, well dammit, you're still here. 

That time has passed, that fleeting moment in that birth room when all that imprinted on your very soul and you took it forward as a map for your life. 

Tear that damn thing up. It's out of date, the roads have changed, life has updated. 

You are welcome here, as welcome as anyone, you have as much of a right as the most wanted, loved and planned person. 

So forgive those people from back then. Not because they deserve it (who knows whether they do) Not because it's the good and goddessly thing to do, not because the world has forgotten your exquisite pain, but because you're ready to live.

 

I've written before about adoption, about how it feels to be an adult adoptee, 'long lost' and searching, wondering about my origins and my family.

 I was adopted at 9 days old by my lovely mum and dad, both in the Heavenworlds now.