The Wall
The guard stood at the gate and did not flinch when I walked up to him. As much as I might have taunted, cried, laughed, pushed, shoved, bothered, and question he did no move. I walked away with frustration written all across my face, my tone, and my body language. I thought I had been defeated. I though that I had done something wrong. I had allowed the guard the chance to talk, speak, open his mouth, explain... but instead he stood there like a wall.
I laid it all out there. Every ounce of who I was. I put the effort into it. And sometimes I feel like I ended up on the opposite side of the wall. The guard someone puts up when life gets too fast. The fear we place between us and the next person when we do not know what we want or where we want to go. The wall that blocks all access to the core of who we are.
The hardest part about it... I fell against a wall. I leaned up against the wall. I sat up against the wall. And while the wall bounced back the echoes and the sounds I sent towards it, sometimes I felt like I just couldn't get through. And that is when I lost trust in the wall. I thought that I was going to fall flat on my face. That one day I would wake up and the wall would not be there. But the thing I have come to realize is this...
The Wall never did anything to hurt me. Sometimes it did not do anything to help the situation, after I hurt myself scrapping my arm against its coarse blocks of cement. The Wall was solid and firm and reliable. But at times it did not always show that back to me. I could tell in its sturdiness that it was real. But because of its guard, blocks, cement, and texture trusting it was more apart of just not knowing it.
Not knowing the center of weakness and strengths. Not knowing what it was made out of and who had leaned up against it before me. I did not know if others had graffiti tagged it and abused it before I showed up to find my place in the moment beside this wall. And most importantly, I failed to trust myself and my own ability of standing next to the wall. I took the wall's structure and guardedness as a dishonesty, when really all it is, is a guard. What I thought I knew about the wall, I realize I do not really know that much.
I trust the wall. And the wall's structure. I know that the wall is apart of my life. In the moments I feel the wall is dishonest, is when I find myself leaning up against my own weak spot of foundation. But I also feel this way because the wall is a guard, a blockade to the source of what is real. The wall is man made. The wall is a device of separation.
Maybe instead of a wall... there should be a gate. Because a gate has easier access to the source. And then as honesty and trust continue to grow, that gate can become an open doorway. And the strength of the wall can become the strength of the sources around it, rather than the materialistic physic of sand and water and paste holding a solid thickness of density together.
I understand the guard at the wall now. I know he is not there because the other side of the wall is a bad place. I know he does not stand there because he has nothing else to do. The guard is at that wall for a reason. A reason being explained by so many possibilities. My guess is that the guard is there for protection because sometimes as safe as we feel, that guarding hand adds to our safety net of life. No matter how much we move on from the past, there are points in our past that make up our wall. Our guard. And in moments of life we put those walls up and guards up stronger. It does not mean there is no trust. It does not mean that there is no emotion. It simply means that that moment reminds us of a time that we needed that wall and that guard to protect us from the harm we felt.
Let me in! I want to grow and be apart of a new world of opportunity. I know I am not perfect. I know I make mistakes. I know I put up a guard. And I hit my head against the wall. But... in my greatest weakness of fear, I can find my greatest strength of courage!
I laid it all out there. Every ounce of who I was. I put the effort into it. And sometimes I feel like I ended up on the opposite side of the wall. The guard someone puts up when life gets too fast. The fear we place between us and the next person when we do not know what we want or where we want to go. The wall that blocks all access to the core of who we are.
The hardest part about it... I fell against a wall. I leaned up against the wall. I sat up against the wall. And while the wall bounced back the echoes and the sounds I sent towards it, sometimes I felt like I just couldn't get through. And that is when I lost trust in the wall. I thought that I was going to fall flat on my face. That one day I would wake up and the wall would not be there. But the thing I have come to realize is this...
The Wall never did anything to hurt me. Sometimes it did not do anything to help the situation, after I hurt myself scrapping my arm against its coarse blocks of cement. The Wall was solid and firm and reliable. But at times it did not always show that back to me. I could tell in its sturdiness that it was real. But because of its guard, blocks, cement, and texture trusting it was more apart of just not knowing it.
Not knowing the center of weakness and strengths. Not knowing what it was made out of and who had leaned up against it before me. I did not know if others had graffiti tagged it and abused it before I showed up to find my place in the moment beside this wall. And most importantly, I failed to trust myself and my own ability of standing next to the wall. I took the wall's structure and guardedness as a dishonesty, when really all it is, is a guard. What I thought I knew about the wall, I realize I do not really know that much.
I trust the wall. And the wall's structure. I know that the wall is apart of my life. In the moments I feel the wall is dishonest, is when I find myself leaning up against my own weak spot of foundation. But I also feel this way because the wall is a guard, a blockade to the source of what is real. The wall is man made. The wall is a device of separation.
Maybe instead of a wall... there should be a gate. Because a gate has easier access to the source. And then as honesty and trust continue to grow, that gate can become an open doorway. And the strength of the wall can become the strength of the sources around it, rather than the materialistic physic of sand and water and paste holding a solid thickness of density together.
I understand the guard at the wall now. I know he is not there because the other side of the wall is a bad place. I know he does not stand there because he has nothing else to do. The guard is at that wall for a reason. A reason being explained by so many possibilities. My guess is that the guard is there for protection because sometimes as safe as we feel, that guarding hand adds to our safety net of life. No matter how much we move on from the past, there are points in our past that make up our wall. Our guard. And in moments of life we put those walls up and guards up stronger. It does not mean there is no trust. It does not mean that there is no emotion. It simply means that that moment reminds us of a time that we needed that wall and that guard to protect us from the harm we felt.
Let me in! I want to grow and be apart of a new world of opportunity. I know I am not perfect. I know I make mistakes. I know I put up a guard. And I hit my head against the wall. But... in my greatest weakness of fear, I can find my greatest strength of courage!
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