I wonder, in the stillness, at how we got here.

The emptiness, the shadows, they've settled. Quite an impressive amount of dust they'd carry, if they were tangible. Echoes fade, as they do, but leave always the memory, the slight reminder of the life and emotion that made them.

Could it all have been avoided?

Growth is right, and natural. Has this place been outgrown? Its inhabitants scattered, gone to build something of their own? Is it wrong to envy them that? Of course it is. And yet the knowledge doesn't prevent it. Doesn't stop the selfish coveting of what was. What might have been.

To find a place that one feels as if they belong. Wanting it to remain that way, once found, is again only right and natural. To have struggled for a time, no matter how long or short, to find identity, and a place to express that..... it cements the bond, both to the place found, and the people found there. Any would, and should, be loathe to lose it.

It would be wrong, however, to sit and play the victim. How many times have I neglected my new home? How many times have I not offered my hand to my new family? How often have I taken all of it for granted, assuming it would be there when it was convenient for me?

Were there fault to be had, I could not point the finger without drowning myself in hypocrisy. Are others' lives, wants, and needs away from here not as valid as my own? Probably more-so, if I am honest with myself. In the end, however, each can only take responsibility for themselves. And with my own inaction, my own laziness, my own part of the whole that was had here, I have allowed this place to grow silent, to stagnate.

How sad the truth is, that you truly don't know what you have, until you risk losing it. Or worse, look up one day to find it lost, already gone and no action to be taken to bring it back. To have things whole, as they ever were. As you needed them to be.

But this place. It stands, for the moment. Silent, but solid. Shadowed, but not darkened. The question must be asked, what is it worth to you? Were the emotions important enough? Were the bonds real enough? Was the home actually a home, or was it only your escape?

And when you say you'll do better, do you mean it? Are you willing to put in the work? To prove it really is what you believe it is?

Or will you, like so many other times, only pretend? Rush around and appear busy, and contribute nothing? Put on a good face, and then turn away once more, taking for granted what you claim to treasure? Will you commit, go the extra mile, take a risk and put yourself out there? Or will you remain still, silent, and complacent? Content to let others step forward and carry you?

Perhaps the question that should be asked is, though you claim to need this sanctuary, does it, in turn, need you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thread title says it all. I read Olan's thread, and after my initial, gut-check reaction, had a serious think. It spawned this.... thing. Not a poem, nor a story, but more than nothing. In the end, it feels a bit like posting a pity-party for myself, but I hope that its more than that, and I feel compelled to share it anyways.

I'm not terribly happy with myself, concerning my Inn activity. You probably noticed that if you read the above. I want to try and turn it around though. I want to try and do more than just hang on to the edges of things and make excuses. I don't know how to contribute, really, but I'm going to do my best to find something.

My one shameless bump. Because I am. Shameless that is.

So eloquently put.

Great job chessic, you wrote it really well

I find the exercise refreshing. Thank you for posting your thoughts.