Friday, April 26, 2013

Invisible Barriers


“There are no clear borders,
Only merging invisible to the sight.”
― Dejan Stojanovic, Circling: 1978-1987

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I watched apathetic as the guy from the fencing company traveled the distance of my yard, measuring wheel rotating, imagining the click – clack of the numbers adding up the invisible barrier to my soul. A multitude of emotions warred with one another, relief, and confusion as to why I needed this fence so strongly. When did my barriers find a need to become visible for all to see?

It wasn’t always like this. Life has a way of changing direction and running gamut with reality.  My invisible barriers built themselves into existence the day I went deaf. I’m sure it’s different for everyone who loses one of their senses, but for me it screamed a need to be “safe”. A safe distance between me and something I couldn’t hear, a safe place to docket away from people trying to pry their way into my silence. Safe was an excursion into remaining isolated…

No, I didn’t realize that at the time. Fear makes a damn good barrier and feeds all kinds of isolation, abandonment, and introvert tendencies. Fear was the most useful tool I knew how to use to excuse myself from society.  Life however, is never wrapped up in such neat little packages of explanations. What does this have to do with writing? Can’t say I blame you for wanting to by-pass the mental unwind, but it is a good question. I’ll answer in good time.

Human beings are resilient creatures, we improvise and change our needs on command; we’re driven by desperation, hope, longing, even co-dependency for companionship. Either way, something thrives within us forcing us to take stock of what we assume is the bottom of the end. I saw myself becoming the embodiment of silence. A hallow echo with no return, suffocating.

Writing was the only tool by which I could travel beyond my self-imposed prison; words had a resounding echo with every click of the keys on my laptop. I had a voice and a multitude of wondrous characters who in turn had their own voices. As a writer I felt free like none other and experienced life in ways that tested the very foundation of reality on a daily basis. Some days I wondered if the writer’s existence solely depended on my deafness. Perhaps, but I honestly think she’s stronger for the silence.

The click – clack of the keys spew forth words which hold the secret to my freedom. The fence isn’t for me. There are two mischievous muses who needed a place to romp in between cajoling out inspiration. Although, I am constantly aware of how fine the line I travel is between the writer and her deafness. These days they’re one and the same. We all have barriers in front of us in one form or another, how we choose to move beyond those barriers is a choice we must each make for ourselves. Fear is the biggest barrier of all. - Indigo

Picture From Here

14 comments:

  1. The great defeater, fear. This was beautiful thank you for sharing. I have often found what I need through my writing so I completely understand that.

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  2. Oh totally. I can see myself so much in this post. I tend to hang back, hold back. Not that I became deaf or blind...but that my heart broke young, before it could even know wholeness, and I've been jugging the wall ever since. I applaud you Indigo. None of it is easy, especially when one of your senses is no longer present, but you do it with grace and fortitude. I hope to do as well. Trying :)

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  3. You have such a gift, Indigo. Thank you for this. It reminds me of a comment you left at my blog earlier in the week, which in turn made me think of a story I heard on NPR years ago about a pianist who injured a hand and learned to make amazing music with just the one.

    Your music is remarkable.

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  4. Your writing always resonates so precisely and exquisitely that it sings with a special music to your readers. Writing can be a great comfort,a salvation, and a potent personal catharsis. Writing has saved me from completely going over the edge many times.

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  5. Yes life does have a way of changing direction. Reading this post helped me understand John's way of dealing with losing his eyesight and his hearng. By the way it is good to see a post from you and a comment from you in my blog.

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  6. You're absolutely right--we all have our barriers, and fear is the biggest of them. I'm glad your words have given you the tools to get beyond your barriers whenever you wish. :)

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  7. It is the magic of life. We are always changing. =)

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  8. fear is def a big barrier that keeps us contained...some barriers though are not bad...they define the sand box to play in...and there is still a lot of creativity to be had inbetween them...some keep us safe...but we cant let it shelter us completely for what we miss....

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  9. I have a fence surrounding my physical property. like your deafness was forced on you this fence was forced on me as an added level of security between my shotgun and an intruder. It is more for their safety than mine. Thing is I don't care about their safety, once they cross the fence line they have to fear two dogs and a fool who can fire two shot guns at the same time.

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  10. I was thinking that this would be an invisible fence for a new dog friend. I have only paddock fences here for the dogs to run and play in. I feel no need to keep others out with gates or any other kind of barrier.

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  11. Fear is a two edged sword, much like a fence. It keeps out what should stay out... but it also keeps in what should be let out. As always, balance is required.

    I hope you find it.

    Love and hugs,
    Tracy

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  12. Your perspective is so amazing to read and, once again, I wish for it to be read far and wide. What an important voice you have, dear Indigo.

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  13. Sometimes I wish I could shut out all the noise in my life -- but so much of it lies inside my head. That's where the fear festers, too. Great post, Indigo.

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  14. We all have our own fears, it is how we deal with them, or don't, that ultimately defines us...

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Thank you for giving my silence a voice, my muse your words, and taking the time to discover my prose.