if walls could speak

as i was growing up i had this mantra that i muttered to myself, under my breath or in my head, angrily and sadly and defeatingly repeating each part as I slammed a basketball against the backboard at our old house, nervously and agitatedly and lostly as i cried in my room and scratched at the center of my palms. it went something like this:

i am stupid.
i am bad.
i am ugly.
i am fat.
i am worthless.

i am stupid.
i am bad.
i am ugly.
i am fat.
i am worthless.

over and over again, drilling, boring, burrowing, burning pathways and nestling in and laying eggs, clawing away and planting seeds of sorrow and despair that sowed a sickness in me that reaches and rests so, so deep in my being.

but recently i acquired a machete.

timidly i have begun whacking at these plants that have grown, invasively and menacingly strangling my spirit, sucking out my essence. but their roots twist deep, you know. and so i have become stronger, chopping harder, but i have yet to really hack away. i'm moving towards that place, though.

as i wrote, i have been cleaning out my room. as i expressed, this room is so potently pregnant with memories, yes, it has bore witness to the depths of the flow of my life. it contains it all. my dear, wise friend captured it, saying - as if the walls hold all the past screams of arguments, tears of desperation, whispers of insanity. and this is all a very intentinoal process of cleaning, cleansing. i have been burning sage to both welcome and carry away all that is still heavy, here. and as i paint these walls i give this space a new face, bury what these walls have seen and heard and still feel under a fresh coat of paint, or rather build upon them to reach a new, higher level of being. i am reclaiming these walls, this space, determining it to be my own, and in being my own being a welcoming, supportive space of love for all.

and so, as i first started painting, doing the trim work i paused. then in long, flowing strokes, the wall, the paintbrush, the paint, and my hand came together. one wall now bears a large flower and reads I AM BEAUTIFUL! another now holds a heart with rays bursting forth and declares ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE.

within a couple of days these walls will be painted over. and within a week this room will be rearranged and put into a state of array, of repair, of wholeness and of love. really, truly. yes. for, forever onwards if you are to ask these walls they will scoop you up and hug you, hold you tight. they will whisper in your ear the sadness that will always echo and resound. then they will stroke your cheek, tenderly, kiss your forehead, warmly, smile, fully, and joyously say - i am beautiful! all you need is love.