GETTING THROUGH, NOT OVER
Here we are, a crowd of women,
deep within the thick
wading within waters,
cold, and dark and quick
The waters seep into our souls,
soak heavy weight into our clothes
and seek to pull us under,
where tears and anguish flow
to distant shores we’re headed
where old and new lives stand
the lives we’ve left behind
shout out to us from the land
‘build’, they shout, with voices
unburdened and unscarred
‘construct a shining bridge
to ease this journey that’s so far’
but we’ve been beaten down so
by love, by fate, by loss
we’ve left behind the tools we need
to take us over and across
‘Go over’, call the voices
of the others who don’t know
‘get over it’, their words lash out
‘don’t let your weakness show’
But we must carve our own path
directly through the fray
though we may come out bruised and bloody
we’ll reach the land someday
So when voices chant ‘get over it!’
There’s not a thing that we can do
We must part the rushing waters
We can only make it through.
I was inspired by a post today .
It called to mind the subject of ‘getting over it’. The author describes struggles with loss and those who suggest ‘just getting over it’. She brings to the surface that we must get through it, not over.
I was struck by the image of a flock of women, chained together, forging paths through rough terrain in an effort to reach stable land on the other side. As one woman loses footing, another reaches down to raise her up. Together, they carry the weight of one another until they can tread the path on their own.
Those who’ve never been here tell us we need to get over it. Maybe they don’t tell us, but their eyes seem to scream it, and their whispers shout throughout the room. What they can never understand, until they’ve set foot off the banks and into this burdened path, is that, for us, there is not getting over. There is only getting through.
We will emerge on the other side, no less, just with some battle scars to show.