Fisher King

Wikipedia has a bit of a different take on it than I remember from my studies but it will give you an idea of what I am talking about. I do find it interesting the connections the entry draws with "fishers of men" and the legend. Also, the French words for "fisher" and "sinner" being so close.

I was thinking about the legend (as I remembered from my lit classes in college). It was about a king, wounded, sometimes legend has it by his own weapon. As the wound refuses to heal, his kingdom languishes. We see this allegory in pop culture because it is still very much a part of the human expereince. Being wounded (possibly by your own 'weapon') and having the power to heal yourself right there, but not knowing it. We saw it in the Lion King, where Simba ran off, thinking he had caused his father's death, leaving his kingdom to Scar and to fall to ruins. The power to heal was always right there with him. To either accept his part in it or to just take charge no matter what his guilt was for the good of the kingdom. Of course, this being Disney. Simba had no guilt. But in real life, that often isn't the case.

I feel like a Fisher King. I nurtured the wounds in me so long, I really didn't notice that the power to heal was right there also. It's hard to access that part of you when you are busy cradling your wounds. Letting go of that hurt when you are not sure of the healing is hard. I suppose it only happens when the hurt gets so bad that you can no longer fool yourself into believing that it is made better by your coddling, that the only chance it has to heal is to let it go.

What I have found during these early stages of healing is that it is tremendously hard to ask for help- initially. It gets easier. Since I began reaching out, I am totally amazed by those that reach back (and because so many do, the sting is taken out of those who don't). I have more energy, I love people more- even myself. And even better, I am open to their love. I have pride in myself for the first time in a long time. I am looking around me, in me and seeing that I am a person worth something.

I look back at earlier posts and try not to cringe at the whining person I was. Those days are not far gone, and to be honest, it's a fear that they might return. I suppose that's why I keep recording all of this, so I can remember who I was, who I am and who I want to be ;)