Give Me Some Space

My response to Prompt #49, Historically Speaking.

I entered the world on an uneventful day in June, 1969. Since no earth-shattering events occurred on the 14th of that month, I decided to focus on the year--one I know was pivotal in many ways. Imagine my surprise and delight to discover my all-time favorite female author and sage guru, Maya Angelou published her iconic I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. But, in an effort to not be predictable, I dug a little deeper. My deep admiration for Angelou is well established, and I've read her autobiography so many times, I think I could recite it. I hear her begging me to reach beyond her. 

Spread your wings, she whispers. How can I ignore that plea?

Some pretty cool music was released by Deep Purple, The Stones, David Bowie, The Bee Gees, Elvis, Led Zeppelin, and Genesis, but I was too busy listening to lullabies that year to understand the impact of all that. 

I keep searching. 

Hilary Rodham graduated from high school that year. The National Women's Hall of Fame opened. Seedy political events. Protests. War. Again, all interesting signs of the time, but nothing jumped off the page as the thing I needed to write about. And, then it hit me: space exploration.

1969 was the beginning of an era, the year of the Apollo 11 mission. Man's first step onto a surface that was rumored to be made of cheese. A dark and strange place where that rascally rabbit, Bugs Bunny first encountered Marvin the Martian and created a little explosive havoc while he was there (watch here for a refresher). 

Beyond the space race and the Cold War with Russia that provided an anxiety-ridden childhood, I wonder what my childhood would have been like in the absence of America's quest to explore and understand space. I grew up in a strange and wonderful time--a mix of new discoveries and invention and social change--some exciting, some terrifying. My parents, however, kept my world pretty narrow. We believed in God, not science. We weren't looking to disprove the theory that Earth was created with the stroke of the hand of one Supreme Being. The Big Bang was a conspiracy theory--much like the one that claims we never put a man on the moon--to lead mankind astray. We didn't listen to all the cool music released in 1969; they much preferred the 50's jams of their youth. The time before America began to lose its way. 

I guess what I really wonder is how my world would have been different if I was given the space to explore my options, not just be told I had to buy into a set belief system. My quest was always to give my children--and myself--that space, even though it has produced some guilt and even angst at times. 

What I've come to realize is I actually find my own version of God in that space, a version that makes more sense to me. And, my exploration isn't even close to being grounded. Sometimes it terrifies me to reach out into places unknown, but the discoveries are always worth the risk. 

Give Me Some Space

Give me some space, 

some room to explore the 

outer reaches of my mind

without always dictating 

what I "should" discover. 

Allow me some leeway,

some freedom to stretch beyond

the prefixed menu of options

that suits your tastes

but are too bitter for mine. 

Permit me to probe 

the vastness of possibilities,

unrestrained by the beliefs, 

the biases of those 

who came before me.

Give me some space,

some room to explore the 

outer reaches of the universe

without worrying about 

what I might uncover.