Citadels...

I heard someone mention this idea of having a citadel in our life.  That we have some safe harbor that is immune to the issues, demands and whims of others.  That we have this defensible fortress of us.  And all I could think about was how much that would have resonated with me in the past.  I would have loved that idea, that image.  Me, alone in my fortress, defending all outside invaders.

But yesterday it just didn’t land for me.  I do not want to live in a fortress that is constantly and consummately under attack.  I want my walls to be permeable, flexible, not opaque and hardened.  I lived inside a fortress of my own making for decades, and now, having cleared that tower of self, I do not wish to go back there, ever.

Today, I live in sanctuary.  Not a fortress or citadel.  My space open, inviting, pleasant and not under constant threat of attack.  It is understated and permeable.  I no longer feel the need to have a drawbridge be the only way anyone can get into my little world.  I mean, the drawbridge is a pretty interesting metaphor for a woman...

Anyway, this image, once upon a time would have been ideal for me, but no longer.  I do not want to live or even visit a fortress.  I want to live in more open, expansive spaces.  I want to be present and inviting, but always with the knowledge that I can go within if I need to.  I no longer have to fight or put up stone walls to keep you out.  I no longer need to live in a walled off manner.  I have found safety and peace while relinquishing the walls and stone.

I get the idea that a citadel might seem lovely, but what I found was that I was the most unsafe person in my life.  And this fundamental and primary unsafeness was the welcome mat for all the other unsafe people I invited in.  So the citadel was a fortress of illness and fear, I kept people out, sure, but I was also locked in a great deal of the time, often with people who were far less safe and unhealthy than myself.  This is what went on at my citadel.  We were all locked up in this great expanse of fortitude that bred instability, illness and injury.  I did keep people out, but more often I locked out those who might have helped me do better, be better.  And I allowed in those who would only help me stay sick longer.

What I inadvertently created was an insane asylum.  A fortress of mental instability and illness.  It has taken me a long time to break new ground to build my sanctuary but I have been richly rewarded for my efforts.  Today, I have no need for citadels, or fortresses or walled cities.  I do not need that kind of barrier.  I have become my own champion, my own caretaker and so my physical safety is not something I need wall off and away from others.  I have transformed from the most unsafe person in my life to the most safe person, and in so doing, obviated the need for walls and stone and drawbridges.

I didn’t know I was dismantling the fortress.  But I know I have.  And I can report that living and existing from a place of sanctuary feels so much more like living than being locked away in some cold, damp, medieval tower.  So much easier to access, so much easier to engage without all that hardness and fear.

For me, citadels are required for people who are unsafe in and of themselves.  Those of us who have done the work of creating safety inside our own minds and hearts, get to live in lovely, easy going, beautiful places without iron bars and stone walls.  We have plants and open spaces.  Many places to recline and linger.  There is an easygoingness to it all that thumbs its nose at everything hard and barred.

I needed the citadel because I need to be saved from myself.  And once I did the work to no longer be the biggest threat to my own survival, I became free to change my living situation to something more easy going, more open, expansive, inviting and welcoming.  I have no need to be locked away behind stone walls that are cold and menacing.  I get to live in the resplendency of openness and by my own invitation.  Sanctuary is quite a different idea altogether.  And today, being safe and having my own back allows for me to quietly persist within a home that is free of moats and dragons.  Instead living in a peaceful tranquility with lots of cats, books and an over abundance of love and safety.

Citadels are good for war.  Sanctuaries are lovely retreats when the war is over...and you have given up the need for battles and armor and all of the shit you thought you needed to survive...

I hope I never need a citadel again, choosing instead to live the rest of my days in partnership with the sanctuary that resides within but is reflected outwards, always...

Again, still...