"We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us,
with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke,
and a presumption that, once, our eyes watered."
The burning of bridges is a thing we all do well. Disconnecting. Leaving things behind us, things undone and unfinished. And the further away from these burned bridges we get, the more faint our "memory of the smell of smoke" becomes to a point of "presumption that our eyes watered."
And, interestingly enough, it is disconnecting with one another that we all fear the most. It is the thing that often prevents us from sharing our deepest, darkest secrets of things which we'd rather have others remain unaware. With all due respect, my inlaws and many of their generation and ilk were very much like this. It was a practiced decorum of sorts - a way of always showing your best side - and rarely, or never, revealing that which lay behind the curtain. It was deemed to be, I suppose, a credible way of maintaining civility at a societal level, but what was kept hidden in so many cases was dark and dangerous and in no way could be justified under this "best face forward" attitude.
In my work with men who have suffered sexual abuse by other men or women, particularly when they were young, I have come to understand that their greatest difficulty in opening up to talk about these atrocities is in their fear of disconnection; that is, if they utter the ugly words, share the brutal story, or admit that they had been sexually abused - then they feel that others would want nothing to do with them. This is the epitome of the fear of disconnection.
Disconnection. Fear of being disconnected. Who among us hasn't experienced this feeling at some point in our lives. You'll remember it when you think about a time when you lacked the courage to speak the truth - when you argued and defended something in which you did not believe - or when someone needed your help, but you were too afraid of public scrutiny to lend a necessary hand. There are other examples, of course, but you get the idea.
I think about significant decisions that I have made in the past and have no regrets in any of them; in fact, if I had to do it all over again, I'd likely make the same decision. And yet, memories resurface occasionally of bridges I have burned, and it compels me to remember the smell and sting of the smoke that made my eyes water at that time. It is necessary to be honest, because if I don't, then I dismiss all that connects me to all of you.
It is in the line "...and nothing to show for our progress..." from the play that is the most profound.We are all responsible to one another, and in our relationships with others, we forget that we are connected to such an extent that our actions, words, and decisions have the propensity to cause disconnection. We must always remember that the essence of who we are as humans lies deeply within our connectedness, and by burning bridges, we disconnect from one another. In this, there is "nothing to show for our progress." We can not only presume that "our eyes watered." We must remember - feel the tears - smell the smoke - and then recognize in the memory how it is that we may have disconnected - and then reconnect.
Think of a fading memory of the smell of smoke in your life.
Blessings,
Paul
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