Remembering Shame

This inspiration came from a garbage bag and a toothpick.
An innocent looking, but used, toothpick lay on my kitchen counter - a tester for a banana cake I baked. So, it was not especially dirty, but used and needing disposal.
The garbage bag? Innocent white plastic - a clean liner to my kitchen garbage container.

vivid shaming memories of 
everything done wrong, 
been told I’ve done wrong
even been suspected of wrong doing

Throwing the toothpick in the freshly lined kitchen garage pail, my hope was that it wouldn’t make a hole in the bottom of the bag so nasty stuff would not leak from the bag. Fruit and vegetable peels are put in a separate container, so I quickly dismissed that possibility.

vivid shaming memories of
who do you think you are
you can’t do that
don’t bother trying
you shouldn’t have done that

Memories, shaped like toothpicks, do not grow as we grow.
Forgotten in the mist of memory are
youth of the child or teen or young parent............
exciting inspiration like fragile balloons
life experience behind the voice of a memory.
(and that voice may have been my own! using those same words on another!)

vivid self doubt
planted deep and nurtured carefully
fed and watered with shame and tears
roots clinging to the soil around spirit
choking out healthy growth.

Once self doubt is planted 
and if memory is to be believed 100%
can there be any turning back?
Or like the weeds in the garden, 
four foot tall thistles with vicious barbs,
or the undergrowth of an untamed field
are we willing to find tools to tackle this long planted self doubt?

“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.”

~ Brene Brown,  I Thought It Was Just Me: 

Women Reclaining Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame