Saturday, January 1, 2011

Rock Bottom

The mighty Magaguadavic. Magaguadavic is pronounced Mac-ah-davie where I am from. I’m sure the aboriginals who named it might pronounce it differently. It means “river of eels” because years ago it was full of them. Now only the eel grass remains. I am dreaming of its waters. I imagine myself curled up on soft river rock, tea coloured water caressing my thin legs. Then the water moves slowly up my body, using me like I am one of its rocks. My long hair tangles in the water with the eel grass and suddenly it is so warm and I am so happy and free. I want to fall asleep under the water. Is this rock bottom? Here is where my choice begins. I can choose to be swallowed by the river or somehow I can rise. But the river is so warm. I can taste it and smell it. I feel like a native warrior that slips into the river to gain strength after a bloody battle. I want to be that warrior but I am so scrawny and tired. I want to wear war paint on my face and have feathers in my hair. And people will see me and think that I am strong and brave. I’ll limp from battle wounds and people will think I am a survivor. They will never know about the dark moments, alone and afraid. Warriors don’t cry.

1 comment:

  1. I think all Warriors do cry! I have been where you are. It wasn't easy to rise above it and those times still comes back to haunt me. Family and friends are there to help you in times like this - the one set of footprints in the sand! Don't hesitate to use us in any way at all! love you Sher bear!!!

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