A bit of bravado
by Elouise
The space between
My father’s voice and
The voices of those
In authority over me
Is very small indeed
With one quick stroke of
A heartbeat my confidence
Drains away like blood
Refusing to flow through
My body red and strong
I spoke my naked mind
To my father hoping to
Reclaim a voice lost
Somewhere in the now
Distant past of childhood
Today I must speak my mind
To systems that like my father
Believe they have the answers
Without any desire to listen
To real people with real lives.
I don’t have visible power or
The glory of being in charge
Or standing without guilt before
God and country or even the
Church I still love despite it all
Thoughts and feelings like these resurfaced in the last several days. It began with the attack on the Capitol building, followed by the feeling of being invaded in my own home. Which led to wondering whether I should smooth out some of my yet to be written blog entries.
I’m grateful I’ve moved beyond that for now. Still, I’m no less aware that we here in the USA are in a situation for which there is no map.
My mother wasn’t allowed to speak her truth. Neither was I or my three younger sisters. Instead, we often ended up vying for Daddy’s favor. My main objective was to get through the next bad scene without another beating. It took bravado, though I often got into trouble anyway. Still, I scraped together enough bravado to maintain my sense of self, desecrated as it was.
For this coming year I’m counting on truth, and hoping for a bit of bravado! My blog is still about telling the truth. Now notched up a bit, given the woman I am today, the situation in which we find ourselves, and the reality of my impending death. Time is running out.
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 Jan 2021
Photo of Bravado Echinacea (coneflower family) found at garden.org
Telling the Truth 
There’s a well-worn map of insurrection. The cries of the unrepresented have been in my head long before the violence at the Capitol. All year the Left has been burning cities, both public and private property, and now the Right is joining in on the action. Both sides of the aisle are entirely dissatisfied with their station in life.
I feel sadness for both sides. It’s with pity and sorrow that I watch as two groups of people are vying for the attention of a few hundred wicked people in one city whose own thoughts are entirely consumed with their own personal political power.
“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”
If anyone is suffering from anxiety, fear, and/or anger, if you feel unrepresented, unheard, then perhaps it’s time to recalibrate your compass to Due North.
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