In Retrospect: 2019; Refining Fire Cleansing Towards Wholeness

 

I have often taken the time in recent entries to reflect on the changing tides of life, both personally and collectively, within the confines of 2020 and beyond.  However, we could not have had such without the years previous.  For me, the year that stood out as full of tumultous life change was that of 2019.

In numerology, the year 2019 adds up to 12, then ends up as a 3 and a 3 year is one that emphasizes creative self expression and emotional sensitivity.  In an article written at the beginning of 2019,(https://astrostyle.com/2019-numerology/) it states that the intention of the year was to 'speak one's truth' without lessening the truth of another.  For me personally, in retrospect, I see now how that 3 energy affected the external outcomes of my internal reality, long buried in need of overflowing outpouring, affecting my decisions that influenced my relationship and circumstance shifts.  I clearly see and understand now, but at the time the element of tumult was such a heavy influence that it left a degree of shaky unease, reflecting in a marked degree of secrecy and codependency.

In my former life of 'fundaze', aka fundamentalist Christianity, we were often taught about the refining fire of God's cleansing.  Truth be told, this is a point of teaching that is not singular to any branch of Christianity alone, but is taught within all variety of spirituality and life itself.  The basic premise being that in times of tumult, as in walking through our own 'fiery furnace', we are refined like silver, cleansed from the draught, that which we need to release, that which no longer serves, so that we can move forward unto our truest and most divine self, whole, complete, who we were always forever meant to be.

Looking back, it is easy to write poetically about such a time of my life.  A time when I had bravely stood up to friendships that were proving toxic for all involved, but mostly for me, and dealt with the backlash of anger, resentment, heartbreak, my own as well as the friends' and family departed.  My financial situation was in dangerous precarity due to ultimately my bad decision making, planning poorly executed, as well as lack of self worth within.  In addition, my beloved sonic lost its engine and power due to a bad mechanic job I did myself.  

Thus, like the fire of refinement, many aspects of my life that I had held as some sort of security blanket and normacly, were being stripped away.  Desperately I clung to that which was fading away, which had ceased to serve, but still I desired to remain, somewhat fearful of who I would be without, what was to come of me without.  

But, at last, I relented.  

Seemingly, left abandoned by those of which my love remains, feeling empty and desperate, I surrendered to the inevitable.  In that place of humility, I began anew, not clinging to the hope of an external savior, but discovering my innermost strength to merely not to survive, but to thrive beyond circumstance.  The cleansing fires allowed that which was toxic to dissipate and be vanquished, leaving my eyes clear with renewed vision of who and what truly matters, that had always been there, shining beacons of love, inspiration, and dedication, guiding me to persevere and truly discover my confidence and worthiness within.

With that, I stood back up, steadied myself on shaky feet, and continued forth the climb.  On that plane of my own destruction, I rose again like the phoenix, rebuilding my own life in a way more beautiful than ever imagined, that which is becoming clearer, more whole and healthy, more truly me.

Sunrise, Norah Jones

Sunrise, sunrise

Looks like mornin' in your eyes

But the clock's held 9:15 for hours

Sunrise, sunrise

Couldn't tempt us if it tried

'Cause the afternoon's already come and gone

Surprise, surprise

Couldn't find it in your eyes

But I'm sure it's written all over my face

Surprise, surprise

Never something I could hide

When I see we made it through another day

Eponine In My Twenties: Head Lice & A Broken Heart

 

It has been awhile since I've written, I apologize, the concerns of the normie jobs and the need to take care of some technological aspects of my business were a stressor that distracted me away from creative writing and soul development.  But, here I am, back to find even more clarity within the character of Eponine.  

Today, I want to focus on my twenty-something self, specifically the early twenties, as a good deal of that time was spent in the agony mindset of Eponine.  The photo above is symbolic to me, and was meant to be just that.  It was symbolic of the fact that in a few months from when that was snapped, I was moving away from Ashland and my college and post college life, heading back to my home county and into graduate school.  The photo was to be given to the boys I was leaving behind, who had only to recently within that timeframe shattered my heart to itty bitty millions of pieces.  Herein lies that story.

Yes, this picture marks an ending, but in order to understand how I got there, I must take you back, back to the year or so previous when I had graduated college and was heading into the wide, wide world.  Yes, I had a four year degree under my belt (a BS in Human Communication, to be exact, get the joke), but I still wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life nor who I really was, for that matter.  Having left behind my true calling and not even received the degree in which I had sought after (Theatre Arts), I felt lost, seeking any sort of validation wherein it could be found.  

I was newly minted Born Again Christian at this time yet still so new to that world that I found myself stumbling back to the familiar, as it were, to be faced with an unending amount of shame couched in false love and concern from those I called friends within the church.  

I needed to get a job and decided the only thing to do was to advance in what I was good at, the only thing I thought I could do.  In college, I had worked as an in-home nanny after class for a local family so the next step for me was to apply at some local preschools.  That is just what I did.  

It was a fun life, for a bit of time.  I was young and exploring the city from which I had lived for four years in a fresh way, out of the confines of the college environment.  I began to explore myself by defining who I was without.  I had also recently broken out of an abusive relationship of three years.  He still tried to ingratiate himself in my life, trying to grab ahold and manipulate me back into his grasp, to no avail, thankfully. 

However, there was still the storms within.  I bounced between living situations, barely staying at a place for more than a year, my relationships were rocky and tumultuousness, I felt no real closeness towards another human, but kept the walls up.  In actual reality, I was afraid to allow someone close, real and true intimacy scared me as I felt this unending emptiness aside.  Thus, I learned to play a part, put up a false front of happiness, when inwardly I felt continuous turmoil.  

All of this, plus I was some years away from the Bipolar breakdown and diagnosis, which would eventually be my saving grace, as well as the discovery of the Celiac Disease, which would also put me on my continuous life-long journey towards recovery and self-(healing) discovery.  To be exact, I felt no comfort within my own skin, that cold hard truth is oh so apparent to me as I view the photos of myself from that time.  Even more so, I couldn't see beyond my own mind's eye, believed wholeheartedly that what I thought inside was actually how others thought of me, was the cold hard fact.

In every sense of the world, I was Eponine.

And then, a shift happened.  It was so slight at the time, like the minutest of earthquakes, the kind that happens, is only felt by a seismic detector, and is reported upon later. Such was this moment.  But that decision made had a long-lasting, life-long influence, which would send out shockwaves in its aftermath for years to come providing lessons that would never truly leave me and continue forward in its education and evolution of my soul.  

I entered a cafe. 

In this cafe, I found a sense of peace, escape from the ex-boyfriend who would just show up at my apartment. I would flee there every Saturday morning, reading my bible and journaling, drinking coffee after coffee, avoiding phone calls from the ex.  And, in this world, I discovered...them.

The coffee boys, ie, the cute, red headed barista who was so gentle and kind-hearted in his quiet way, the dark long haired, "Scary Dark Boy" (my nickname) one whose darkness was so encapsulating that it left an air of mystery, the long, lanky one who resembled Shaggy, the straight-laced looking one with the tie, and the older hippie looking one.  There were others as well.  They'd sit on the small patio, examining me as I examined them, the glass separating us.  Who would be the first to shatter and bridge the distance? 

And I watched from my window

Always felt I was outside looking in on you

Foolish Games

I wanted to, I felt the desire and the attraction, perhaps a deep down, long buried, since of belonging.  But, per the usual, it was one of the guys that made the first connection. 

 "Are you reading the bible?" One of them asked approaching me at my table.  

"Yes," I smiled proudly.  I thought this was the moment to be shared later with my Christian friends, my duty as evangelist to win their souls.  Maybe that was my calling here in this cafe? Maybe...

They were in utter disbelief and mockingly laughed with the friends.  (Yet, the red headed barista did not, that was notable, he kindly placed my oatmeal on the table and smiled reassuringly down at me.  Note that.)

But, thus it began.  I was a girl living so many existences but not my own.  Seeking outward validation in the form of acceptance from the church's enforcement of righteous living and approval through the love found in a man's arms.  I was lost in the sea of my own tumult, dashed about by the waves of those who thought they knew best for me, I tried to comply but came up lacking.  

But, oh there were moments reaching towards the heavens divine, leisurely summer days on the patio at the café, long hiking adventures with the boys, hanging at the bar, laughing, being together.  Looking back, within the confines of my café friendships, I felt a sense of security that was not felt anywhere else, of the unconditional, non-judgmental acceptance sort.  But, there were still the voices from other forces, the elder figures of social norms trying to get me to settle down and choose a career, the domination of the church, abusive elements that I would one day have to break free from but in that moment I still hung to a thread of, still believing that if I only obeyed I would be loved, but never, never measuring up.  

Well, not all the café boys did not remain in the friendzone for long, but even more so, the romantic aspect of the relationship would not hold either, overshadowed by the judgment of the church's judgment but even more so my own shaky sense of self.  Thus, followed my Eponine existence, I would languish alone, pining, walking the street in memory, singing "On My Own" in my heart, outwardly playing "Don't Know Why" on repeat with my friend, Jamie, on our girl's nights where we would hold mutual "Eponine" heart to hearts licking our wounds over our ex-boyfriends.  

All this would come to a head in January of 2004, after the last breakup of the café-boys, the aforementioned 'scary-dark boy', whose darkness I had allowed myself to be encompassed by so as to hide from my own.  Yes, he and I had come together in sworn love only to have him become disillusioned once he had achieved that conquest.  Years later, he and I would reunite and eventually marry, to be quickly followed two years later by eventually divorcing, due to his abuse and inability within himself to get out of his darkness and be truly intimate.  (Well, that's putting it mildly.) 

But, I digress, back to the moment in January 2004, when he broke up with me after a week of asking for space, just like Taylor Swift's line "We hadn't seen each other in a month When you said you needed space. (What?)"  We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

So, I went over to his house after work because the preschool I worked at had had a lice outbreak and he had probably been infected.  I tried to make a joke out of it, felt his tension, but still went ahead with my act.  

"I'm infected," I mockingly sobbed.  "And so are you."

"What?" he spat.  

"I have head-lice," he shrugged it off.  He wasn't taking the joke, and more over, he was cold and distant, done with me he was.  That was when he called it off officially, telling me bluntly that he didn't love me like he thought he had, loved me like a brother.  

Sobbing commenced, broken and laying on the floor.  I finally stumbled out into the cold night, trying to regain some sense of composure, but the body was wracked with despair.  Calling it an act of God, a response for my sin of sexual deviance was a lie I clung to, another way to hide.  Days and months afterward, I would flee into the Christian world-view, maybe, that would give me the unconditional love I sought, still external it would come up lacking.

But, on that dark night of my soul as well, I stumbled brokenly, tears pouring out of my eyes, wailing at God with "Why?".  Having a class I was taking at the college, I had some work to do at the computer lab.  I sat there in the lab at the computer, trying to work, when my college ex-boyfriend approached.  :He tried to counsel me when I told him my boyfriend had broken up with me, tried to control me, get me to follow him once more.  I surprised myself by not obliging.  I was chatting online with the hippie guy from the café.  

"Come over," he told me.  So, I went but ended up at the wrong house, however, it was the home of another ex-boyfriend, the one I had rebounded with for two weeks after the breakup from the college ex.  I knocked on the door, opening it because I thought it was my hippie friend, but then there was that ex, sweetly, running when he saw me sobbing on my doorstep.  I had to stop him with "I have head-lice" for I didn't want to infect his long red hair. 

Next, I headed to the red-headed barista's house, running up the stairs pass his mom and at his bedroom, he hugged me, despite my attempts to avoid.  We went for a walk, quietly talking, he, doing his best, to help me out of my pain to no avail.  This was a battle that could no longer be fought for me, from the external, resolved from the outward would no longer work, no longer able to put a mere band-aid over my brokenness.  I had to go within, overcome, and truly look at my own darkness.  

There, I was, at last, with 'head lice and a broken-heart'. 

I went home that night, sobbing as my room-mate and I disinfected each other's hair, the house, the furniture, then to bed, still with wet hair wrapped in the disinfectant.  

As the days tumbled forward, I would heal, or find other ways to hide from my pain, mostly through attempting to find myself within the confines of the aforementioned church.  I would re-tell that story of that fateful night and hear parroted back, "you were chasing after guys and when that was taken away, you had to turn to the Lord".  But, now I don't see it so black and white, like  "God is good, and guys are bad".  Because each of those guys had a lasting impact and significance in my life, enough for me to profess love, love which remains, in a different form, but thus is still very much real today.  There are seasons to our lives, reflected in those that cross our paths at different times.  Each a soul mate for that time, that moment, to teach us, shape us, help us evolve and deepen.  If I hadn't had that night, I wouldn't have advanced forward from my Eponine life, slowly realizing my true power to love myself.  Truth be told, before I could find real, lasting love with another, I had to know that within.  I had to come home with myself before I could find with another.  

Thus is the girl hailing a peace sign and wearing her burgundy viva la revolution beret, waving a kind good-bye to those who had helped her grow.

That is the true story of Eponine, the path she takes and her eventual death is symbolic of that release to her real home, herself.  I would have many moments of falling back to seeking external validation, and still do after that one night.  But that night stands clear in my mind as the turning point of my life, that put me on the journey towards falling in love with myself, safely arriving at my true home and destiny, moving from Eponine and beginning thus my journey as Fantine. 

Home

So, what are your thoughts on Eponine?  Share your stories below.  I love to hear.

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc.  Find out more about us at:

www.cafegirlproductionsinc.com

www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions

Eponine Phase

 

On My Own

On my own

Pretending he's beside me

All alone

I walk with him till morning

Without him

I feel his arms around me

And when I lose my way I close my eyes

And he has found me

In the rain the pavement shines like silver

All the lights are misty in the river

In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight

And all I see is him and me forever and forever

And I know it's only in my mind

That I'm talking to myself and not to him

And although I know that he is blind

Still I say, there's a way for us

Last week, during the beginning phase of that crazy week long election storm, I sat down and created a YouTube video using songs from Les Misérables, namely "One Day More" and "Do You Hear The People Sing" to represent the revolutionary spirit felt in the air, (which led me down the rabbit hole of other YouTube songs from the musical, Les Misérables, mostly that of the character, Eponine.  

For those of you who don't know the story of Les Misérables, which originated as a book by Victor Hugo, then began a world renowned musical theatrical piece, and in recent years has been made into both musical and non musical movies, well, I'll give you the Cliff's Notes version.  The story is set basically during the French Revolution, which already we can connect with in our current crazy political landscape (am I right?), follows the protagonist, Jean Val jean, from his youth running from the law as an ex-con, on the lam and hiding in plain sight, his raising Cosette, the daughter of his employee (Fantine, we shall discuss her later), then we delve into the variety of characters who become active in the fight for their freedom from oppression, in that list, we meet our beloved girl of the day, Eponine.

Eponine's parents, Monsieur and Madame Thenardier, are not much to speak of with pride.  Together they run a tavern and are scoundrels in every sense of the word, seeking their own gain in the lowest of fashions.  During the musical number, One Day More, these two can be heard proudly conniving how they will ravage the dead fallen soldiers for what precious goodies they may find, with no remorse.  For whatever reason, they produced offspring.  In the novel, the eldest is Eponine, followed by sister, Azelma, and little brother, Gavroche.  In the play and movie, Azelma is left out.  

So, with all this known factors, Eponine is tough, raised to fend for herself first.  She is often depicted wearing a cap, boyish clothes, dirty face, and stringy hair but underneath all of that runs a deep well of emotion that is passionate and a force for good.  In the quest for love and acceptance, Eponine sacrifices her own ego and desires for the betterment of others.  See, Eponine's tragic life has one devastating blow, she is in love with a man who does not reciprocate that love, her childhood friend, Marius.  Marius falls in love before Eponine's eyes to another, that of Cosette.  Yet, Eponine does not allow the pain of this to persuade her from helping Marius or that of others.  In the tragic spectrum of her life, Eponine's strongest asset and deciding factor is her undying, unrequited love for Marius, it is in what gives her hope, perseverance, the desire to see him find happiness above all else, and in the end, peace.

I believe many a women and girl of my age and younger find deep resonance with the story of Eponine, yet she is not the main character of Les Misérables, even so, her story being a side story should not and will not be cast aside.  Throughout the tragedy of her life, Eponine in her strength demands her life to have meaning.  Thus, I come to the crux of this article.  

In the next several weeks, I seek to take a deep dive into the lessons the women of Les Misérables can teach us, Eponine, Fantine, and Cosette, the cycles we go through in our quest for both wholeness and love.  I feel that Eponine is the first in our development.  Generally, I direct my focus on the female gender but perhaps those of other genders can resonate with these thoughts.

My parents' were gracious enough to take me to see Les Misérables a couple times in San Francisco when it was in its beginning reign in the nineties.  I had listened to the cd several times and Eponine's songs on repeat.  I looked forward to with such expectancy her story, her songs, her character arc, and connected so deeply with her.  This continued throughout my twenties and into my early thirties, when even then, after a heartbreak, I would, at times, find myself walking the street at night, singing her song, On My Own.

I wasn't and am not alone in this fascination and connection with Eponine.  At the plays I have attended, I have seen the actress playing Eponine get roaring applause after her featured number, "On My Own", from the audience members of young girls.  To this day, Hollywood and the music industry carries with it the strain of unrequited love as its universal theme, showcasing the reality that love is only valid if it is connected to suffering and heartbreak.  In my younger years of teenage and twenties, I look back with fondness at this connection.  One of my college best friend's, Jamie, and I would have regular girl's nights' which featured us having drinks, eating French fries, and discussing our boy issues, only to head back to our homes, playing "Don't Know Why on repeat. 

The story line and character of Eponine, the unrequited love-sick heroine, can be found in a myriad of Hollywood and contemporary pop culture, with the likes of Jewel, Norah Jones, Natalie Imbruglia, and Taylor Swift.  Raised on the fantasy of one true love from Disney movies and distraught over the reality of relationship, we find solidarity with our Eponine sisters in sharing our struggles with our romantic partners.  The theme behind Cafe-Girl Productions, Inc's romantic comedy, Nate & Laura & How They Met, was based on this quest for love in all its variety of struggle, loss, and healing.

Eponine was the hero of my youth, of so much of my romantic inclinations of the past, as well as many a female counterpart.  In our livelihoods as Eponines, we looked down with disdain at the simple hope of love of Cosette, with also jealousy that the story line of Eponine afforded.  Yet, I now realize that my time as Eponine afforded me the growth to eventually discover the importance of life as Cosette.  

Eponine's unrequited love and heartbreak affords us the understanding and connection with others that have thus experienced.  Furthermore, in not finding union with our beloved, we are forced to unite with the one closest to ourselves, our own selves and discover own inner strength.  In Eponine's journey, she was murdered by the opposing army, yet in that, she found healing dying in the arms of Marius, and was able to be released to an eternity of peace.  We do not need to die physically to find that healing and resolution.  For my own part, my struggles living the pathway of Eponine have led me to the strength that has developed into my ability in falling in love with myself.  In that love for myself, I find the ability to grow beyond the suffering, to overcome, and find peace within.

Therefore, the years of my life living as Eponine were vital in my overall development as a human being and would not trade any for the strength, the understanding of self and love of self developed.  In the suffering of loss and heartbreak, my own version of "A Little Fall Of Rain, in the agony of that, I realized that I could endure on my own, could love myself, persevere, and deepen my sense of self worth in the letting go that would ultimately lead me to my soul's truest love companion.

A Little Fall Of Rain

I don't feel any pain
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me now
You're here, that's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain will make the flowers grow

Thoughts on what you read? How were your Eponine years? What have you learned? Comment below!

The Thriving Artist is a subset of Cafe-Girl Productions, In, a film and media company with the emphasis of raising soul awareness and sense of purpose for empowerment.  Support us at: www.patreon.com/cafegirlproductions

One Final Time

Tera and Ruby moved through the bustling airport, arm in arm, surrounded by the Holiday season atmosphere of people flying to be with families whether out of love or duty or both, the piped in Holiday muzak played throughout the airport, the stores and restaurants playing holiday fare to travels passing by. The two girls were immune to the busyness, so rapt in each others presence were they and excited with the days spent together ahead. It had been awhile since they'd seen each other, been years since their times of teenagers at Camp Crowshaven.

Later, walking through the creeping darkness of the New York city streets, aimlessly taking in the sights, the two girls approached a small and welcoming cafe.

“This looks like a good spot to get a bite,” Tera said, hungrily and she moved towards the entrance. Ruby stopped dead in her tracks, her jaw dropping down in shock. “What? What's wrong?”

Ruby pointed, her finger shaking.

“That's Rob,” she said. Tera's eyes followed her friend's finger towards the man she had yet to meet, an older balding man with horn-rimmed glasses (what Ruby saw in him she would never know) sitting at a table with a very young girl around their own age.

“Whose the girl?” Tera asked, anxiously hoping for the response to be a “daughter” or a “neice”.

“I...I..don't know,” was all Ruby could say, her lip quivering and that was answer enough for Tera. Tera took total control then, she looked her friend over and said,

“Look, either I go in there now and read him the riot act or--”

“Or what?” Ruby said, desperately.

“We go somewhere else and get you completely plastered drunk,” Tera finished. “So what's it going to be?”

Ruby looked long at the two diners inside, then at the sidewalk. After a moment, she looked up at Tera and said,

“You'd read him the riot act?”

Tera smirked and then shrugged.

“I don't know, maybe,” she smiled at her friend, then jokingly made to move inside. Ruby grabbed her, pulling her away a bit.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing Tera's hand.

“So, drinks it is?” Tera wanted to know and Ruby nodded slowly, biting her lip to hold back the tears.

Later, in the warmth of the dark atmosphere of the bar, a swirling snow falling outside, Tera and Ruby shared a bottle of wine.

“I've got to go pee,” said Ruby, getting up. She hurried into the bathroom and after using the facilities, looked at her care-worn face in the mirror, gripping the counter to keep herself from falling. Too late, she thought to herself symbolically. How did it ever get this far? Why had she allowed herself to feel this way? Why wouldn't he...? She left that thought open-ended in hope, perhaps, and left her reflection in the mirror to drown herself in the bottle of wine some more.

As she sat at the table, Tera winked at her.

“See those two guys at the bar?” Ruby glanced behind her and Tera snapped her attention back at her. “They've been totally checking us out the entire night and the waitress just brought us another bottle of wine, on them.”

Ruby blushed. Was she ready for this? Oh well, why not? If anything, it could make for a good time and perhaps later good song-writing fodder.  

Don't Know Why

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