Great Aunt Emily

I CANNOT live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf - Dickinson

Meet my great great great and so forth Aunt Emily. Also known as the poet Emily Dickinson. She's actually an aunt on both my paternal grandparents sides. I know, I know, that's a little weird. Fortunately for me and everyone else in my family, Grandpa and Grammy didn't know they were distantly related. Otherwise they might have been weirded out too and never would have got married and had six healthy children, one being my father.

Anyway, my point is only to say that I feel a sort of kinship with my great aunt/cousin/whatever the exact title might be. My Dad has sorted it out and posted it on his website but I only need to know she's a relative. I feel a kinship with her of course because we share a love of writing. Even though I've tried Emily's poetry and sometimes I just can't get her style. She might have felt the same way about my historical novels.

Another way we are alike is in our perception of people. She gave in to her fears and became reclusive, in her later years not even willing to leave her room. While I cannot really understand completely shutting off from life, I understand the motivation behind it. It's not that I am necessarily afraid of people or dislike people. In fact, based on this poem of Emily's, I don't think that was it for her either. I think she was like me. People were so important to her, she loved so deeply, that fear of losing them or being rejected took over her mind.

Emily gave up on her faith. I have no doubt in my mind that if I had done the same, I would be as reclusive and troubled as she was. There is a sort of physical nervous response that builds up in me when I am in a group of people attempting to mingle, or when I am speaking in front of people or even singing. (I find it interesting that God has called upon me to do these very things many times in my life. It reminds me of the words of Paul that "My grace is sufficient, my power is made perfect in weakness.") Even with my own precious family, toward the end of the day my whole body is tensed and willing the late hour to come when I can be alone and breathe. I would describe this nervous reaction to crowds and social situations as I describe the feeling of claustrophobia. It is not something that I allow to happen, it is a physical response.

However, it is not a physical response that I cannot control or learn to master, at least in part. Emily didn't realize that on the springboard of faith in God she could learn to deny her need to be alone on occasion and she would be glad for it. I guess that's what I've learned over the years and am still learning each day. To work toward being more involved in the lives of the people around me, not less. To allow others to sharpen me and rid me of my rough spots, not run away from constructive criticism and call it rejection.

I suppose that physically ill response to people all around me will always be part of who I am, just as it was for Emily. But I'm determined not to let it get control.

I wish with all my heart for a time machine to go visit Aunt Emily and tell her the very same.