April 3, 2010 2 Comments
As I was cutting pieces for a skirt I’m making this weekend, I started thinking about all the things in life that get cut. Clothes, hair, nails, fingertips when they meet with sharp objects, classes, lunch and checkout lines, words that are trying to come out of your mouth, grass, trees, flowers, ribbon, lace…many, many things get cut. Some of them get cut a lot, some only once, but the point is, that sharp point of separation is useful in many instances. Tangible ones.
But then there are the times when the things we cut are invisible, unseen, but felt clear to the bones of your soul. These are the ties we cut with people who have been in our lives. Family, friends, lovers, enemies, abusers – they all get cut, or risk it. Sometimes it takes a lot of strength to be the one to do the cutting, and sometimes you are the unwilling recipient of such cutting.
The hurt and scaring caused by being ripped against your will from someone’s life is staggering, stunning, immobilizing. Paralyzing. You feel like all those discarded clippings that get cut and ignored – worthless weeds, stringy split ends, tattered hemlines. Not only are you of no value, but in actuality, you are a determent to the value of the entire thing you belong to. You are wasting space, taking time, looking shabby and bringing down the overall market price -according to the person doing the cutting. The operator of the scissors has decided your value, and you have no choice but to accept it.
Thankfully you are not vegetation or fabric scraps. You can rebuild yourself into something better than what you have ever been before, and eventually that scar will become the catalyst that throws you into the future you used to fear. You will have to adapt, be forced to grow and change, and the person who has decided you are no longer worth their time and effort – they will be the sore spot under your chest bone, but eventually it won’t hurt to bump it anymore. After a time you won’t pick at the scab of the pain like a kid playing with the bloody hole in his gum where his loose tooth used to dangle. The ability to reinvent and change is what makes you the person you really are, you just have to decide to be that person.
I do not want to be discarded and I don’t want to be forgotten. In my life that means that I have had to be the one to do the cutting a few times. Is it worth it to hurt someone who isn’t the most important thing in your life, for the sake of the one who is? Of course. It’s not easy or fun, and you still poke your tongue against the hurt and taste the metal blood, but it’s easier when you are the one doing the cutting. I used to feel guilty for turning my back on people; I used to wonder if that made me a bad person. Looking back on it, all I can say is that if it really mattered all that much, if you were really worth it, I’d still bleed a little when I touch the sore spot you left. I don’t, so you weren’t.
In the end, all I can say is that I hope I continue to cut out the wrong ones and hold tightly to the right ones, and that they do the same as well. Some things can’t be put back together, and my heart is one of them.
Lots of things get thrown away and cut out. Be careful what you choose to do with your own hot knife or rusty scissors but don’t be afraid to be the one to use them.