Written Whispers

Riddle Me This

July 14th, 2009

I’ve been known for asking some tough questions. Questions I put a lot of thought behind before I ask. Questions that have no simple answer if any at all.

The first time I had one of these questions I was just finding myself spiritually and I asked my mother if she believed in faeries.

The second time was weeks from then when I asked myself if how she was treating me was really right and did it really mean she was a drunk if she left me home every night to go to the bar?

Later that month after supervised visitations I had to run home and ask my adoptive sister if what happened that fateful night really happened because my mother coyly told me I wasn’t seeing things right and no that’s not the way it happened. It did though.

Sometime after that I asked the goddess if I was who I thought I was and if my whole life was based on lies because through all my life that’s all I’d been fed.

Months down the line and I asked my latest foster parents if I was a bad person. How did one know they were a bad person? How did one judge if their thoughts were bad and did bad thoughts make the person bad? They had no answer for me because they’d made me think that way in the first place.

A day later I asked myself if I would rather be a good person and do nothing or a bad person and do the right thing. My actions changed my life.

My questions are never easy. Easy questions are easy to figure out and thus don’t need asking but questions of the soul, heart, and even mind… no one can answer those but yourself. For everything else you can ask a teacher, a parent, a friend- sometimes even a strange and half that time there will be a right answer but when you’re questioning things on the inside it’s so much harder. After each of these I sat down for hours and asked myself, or as I like to say, I had a long talk with myself. Asking myself out loud if need be what I felt, believed, and perceived and it was only then that I received any sort of answer at all. I can’t say if my answers were right or wrong but they were right enough for me and I’ve yet to steer myself wrong through this process but now… things have changed.

I have a question but as I ask myself I know I have no answer. Where once the ground was steady suddenly a chasm lies open beneath my feet and sometimes I can’t see if I’m stepping into it or not.

I have to ask myself but for once I find only silence and echoes of my own voice ringing back to me. Perhaps the question itself is the answer? Hmm. The last thing I need to do is ask myself a riddle.

I’ll come back to this. I’m so tired right now the words aren’t flowing like I need them to so it’s time for a nap. Night.

One Response to “Riddle Me This”

  1. Jessie Carty says:

    Sleep!
    Something I didn’t do much of.
    I recall once going with my mother to find her glasses on the side of the road because after a night out she had fallen out of the car *sigh*


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