What Is My Ultimate Concern?

My immediate response to the question used to be, "survival." That response was a knee jerk reaction to a harrowing childhood in which my survival was threatened. That feeling, or conscious concern, had been with me through most of my adult life. The response was a habit. Along with having lived in fear as a child, I lived in fear for most of my adult life, as well. Prior to 10 years ago, my attempts at living alone were painful and exhausting. Fear was the only feeling I felt from sundown to sunrise. My daily life was shaped around what I perceived as safety. If I were out in public places, a restaurant, a movie, with friends, or even walking on the street, I felt much safer than I did alone in my home.

About twenty-five years ago I began to really examine what I believed about life. Not just religious issues, or God, but what I believed about violence, murder, war, cruelty, etc. I grew up in such violence that it colored my feelings about everything. My repulsion of violence and child abuse was so packed with aggression that I believed I could kill if provoked. I woke up daily to a rage that felt like it could bubble over into violence at any time. The hatred of violence, my parents, and anyone else who had ever slighted me, filled me up to the point that I was just internalized hatred and violence. And yet, somewhere in that churning inferno I knew that was not all I was.

Through much therapy, self- reflection, lots of very healing friends, art work, and a willingness to continue on, I was able to let go of my anger for my parents. I remember talking about them to a friend one day. I was explaining the situation I was born into, the circumstances of my parents life during my childhood. I was struck by the fact that had they not been my parents I was talking about, I would have been loving and sympathetic and compassionate toward those people. They were adolescents struggling against convention and their own survival. They were uneducated, unsupported, and ill prepared for parenthood and hadn’t had an opportunity for other options or to grow up yet themselves. My anger for them did not disappear at that moment. It took many years. But it was the first time I could recall ever in my life that I had a warm feeling toward them. That was a turning point in my life.

One of the many realizations I have come to in my life is that I don’t fear death as I once did; and I don’t fear life as much either. What I appreciate more and more is the vulnerability and fragility of life, and yet so many of us can be so resilient as to make it to adulthood. When I think now of the most horrifying thing I could imagine, it would be to be responsible for having ended another’s life. My primary concern today is not what harm will come to me, but what harm will come from me.

When I was 44 years old a long term relationship I had been in ended. I chose at that time to live alone. It was a very different experience for me. I felt safe in my home. I was comfortable regardless of the time of day, I enjoyed having a colorful shower curtain (previous ones had always been clear) and I enjoyed the peace and serenity of my own company. I looked forward to being alone and in my own home. It was a great source of joy to me to realize that I had changed; really changed some very core feelings and fears. My focus had finally changed from what others might do to me to consciousness of the potential harm I may do to others. Yet, I still do hurt others. Not intentionally, but I still can be insensitive, arrogant, clueless, and not realize it until the hurt is done.