Polly's pages (aka 'Donna Williams')

Ever the arty Autie

Forget fear…Feel the guilt and do it anyway

September2

Here they come sml I’ve been collecting orphans for 20 years.  I wondered if this warrior would ever get over this addiction.  Then it was as if every message and person and event around me conspired to sweep me up in a magic which would change all of that.  I even remember about 10 days ago, alone here (I enjoy a lot of time alone) and was musing to myself about the saying ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’.  Well, I’d been a phobic, a slave to fear, but dedicated my life to conquering that.  Pulled out all the stops and declared that I would not stop for fear, I’d seize life regardless.  But guilt, well guilt was a whole other beast.  I’ve never known a worse guilt monster than me.  I have medals for privation.  I know what it is to feel too guilty to eat, to dare drink the water, to use a towel.  I remember as a kid feeling guilty for breathing, for taking up too much space, for being so imperfect… sure, in between I was an oblivious, cheery dag, but suffice to say I had some great guilt foundations.

But I didn’t start out as the warrior.  I started out as we all do.  A doe eyed innocent, a child in a man’s world navigating homelessness and the streets.  Those doe eyes became the desperate eyes of a perpetual orphan, the 13 year old street kid who would get drunk and vomit on herself for four years.  The 15 year old with a plastic smile, smiling because it might help someone be helpful or kind.  But by 17 that orphan had spent four years in domestic prostitution.  She was street wise and weathered, jaded and ready to walk.

I walked my way to the shrink’s office and turned myself in and emerged a pilgrim, braving the streets because it was better to be cold and hungry than be someone’s toy, puppet or mule.  And  somewhere in there, after 10 years of being the orphan, the new pilgrim ultimately became the warrior.

I was the idealist, the rescuer and I collected every stray with greater and greater passion.  Helping became the only version of love I felt and so, in time, I failed to notice anyone but the orphans and I seemed to pick the laziest of them, those who found the nests I’d make for them so cosy they’d refuse to seize the reigns in their own lives.  Why should they?  Clearly I liked hard work.

And they had their own love stories.  For just as my version of love was to have someone to rescue and empower, theirs was to be the forever-baby, in whose world empowerment was self defeating.

So I sublimated along the way, creating like a walking collection of ARTism.  And somewhere in there through painting, sculpture, music, poetry, books, films, musicals, I dredged up that old orphan and forgave her the shame I’d left her covered in.  And somehow a magic happened.  All the orphans I’d collected were no longer the means by which I could test out my own capacity for self forgiveness.  I just ‘got over it’.

I realised orphans are ok, but being the only warrior in an army of orphans is not healthy and it was time to let some other guilt junkie define that as loving.  I had learned better.  Sure, I don’t know diddlee about how to love except to care for orphans.  Maybe that’s something I’ve got to learn in this life.  But I do know that I learned how to ‘feel the guilt and do it anyway’.   I’m over being the warrior.  I’ve lost the romantic idealist and am firmly the pragmatist.  If you’re not looking for empowerment don’t knock on my door.  I don’t hold hands and I don’t wipe butts.  I’ll be the first to point out your own magic, but from here on, I’m celebrating my own.

Donna Williams, Dip Ed, BA Hons.
Author, artist, singer-songwriter, screenwriter.
Autism consultant and public speaker.

http://www.myspace.com/nobodynowherethefilm
http://www.donnawilliams.net
http://www.aspinauts.com

posted under Donna Williams