A Fall Into Grace

If a tragedy is a fall from grace,
a King dethroned,
a prince dishonored,
someone who had it all
and then lost it all,
then I think, perhaps
my story is the opposite.
I think it has been a fall into grace.

For my journey began
with a scarcity of safety,
a dearth of devoted care,
and a lack of love.
I began life with small thoughts
and a small sense of self.
I felt I was insignificant and inconsequential,
that I did not belong anywhere.
Frequently, I found myself wondering:
why am I even here?
For no one wanted or needed me.

Then one day, to our great relief,
my siblings and I got adopted...my first fall into grace.
Though my family life was now comfortable and loving,
my school experiences became my new source of hardship.
As I continued to encounter people who failed to see my worth,
I sadly, became one of them.
For I figured, if so few people saw my merit,
then maybe it just wasn't there.

This new thought of scarcity
hence entered into my subconscious
promoting episodes of self-sabotage
and a slew of self-recriminating thoughts.
But soon there was another fall into grace.

The summer of 2006,
I finally had experts confirm
that my socializing challenges were real
and had a name.
So I began to work
on the shortcomings they said I had
and started making friends with fellow "outcasts".
My fool-proof self-deprecating humor
made my newfound friends laugh
in our initial moments of conversation.

January 2010:
my biological mother decides to reveal
a time capsule I had buried 'neath
"the rich soil of positive memories"*.
Though this spurred a spiraling fall,
I managed to pull out of the nose dive
and sputter clumsily above the ground
for a few more years.

When I eventually crash landed
into the "wrong" degree,
I saw just a year later
that it had been a third fall into grace.
For I began my magical 2,000 mile trail;
a journey of divine healing.
I finally began mending
the broken vision I had of myself.

The people on this trail could see my worth
and they even held up a metaphorical mirror
so that I too could lay my eyes on it again.
Here among the mountains,
I was rediscovering
the powerful person I always was.
For it takes strength and courage
resilience and perseverance,
not to mention endless patience
to wade through the dark,
tumultuous waters
of grief-ridden self-loathing;
to keep choosing life when
the peace of death seems inviting;
to keep choosing life when
much of what you've seen of it
has appeared sinister.

And the best part is,
my healing journey
continued after the trail.
I became part of a second family.
A family made up of others
who have experienced trial by fire
and had come through it
with grim determination...
eventually softening into tranquil acceptance.
Leastways that's our goal, our desired finish line.

I feel I am richer in gratitude
than those who have led an easy life.
I feel I am richer in compassion
than those who have not faced adversity.
I feel that I am richer in patience
than those who never had to wait for love.
Even my dreams are richer, are grander
than those who never used daydreams
to draw themselves out of despair.
I am richer in hope than those who never needed it,
and richer in love,
for I have fallen into glorious grace
and I thank all the people who have lit the way.

*a quote pulled from one of my previous poems entitled "Time Capsule", shared back in 2015.