We took a little detour from the beach last week to visit one of the state’s historic army batteries, a fort built in the early 1900’s to protect the Puget Sound from attack. It is a massive concrete structure, built into the side of a bluff overlooking the water. Perched on top are the original “disappearing guns”, giant cannons that are hidden from view behind a camouflaged cement wall. Ground level is a network of silent, windowless rooms that used to house the control rooms and artillery. They connect to each other through a series of narrow walkways and stairwells, each room just as cold and empty as the last. On the walls, generations of vandals have scratched initials and cryptic messages.

Normally, I am a lover of all things with a past. Antique books in particular fascinate me. I love to imagine whose fingers have turned the pages before mine. Old homes, too, always seem to echo with the voices of past inhabitants. I love feeling connected to a history long past, imagining myself as the link between long ago and tomorrow.

But here, deep inside the walls of a century-old monument, I felt nothing. No connection. Just emptiness. Everything was cold and dark, sending shivers down my spine despite the warm summer breeze that tousled my hair. I was surprised to notice that I wasn’t frightened of these barren, claustrophobic spaces. I expected myself to hesitate at each doorway, reluctant to step into the blackness. I think it was that lack of feeling, almost a detachment, that allowed me to explore the fort unafraid.

I took this photo in one of the last rooms we walked through. The only way in or out was the concrete steps that led you either down into the pitch-black, empty pit, or up into the sunlight. Walking up those steps, leaving the darkness behind me, felt so good. When I wrote that “issues” post a little while ago, I experienced the same feeling. I was leaving behind me the black, oppressive walls of shame, and choosing to walk into the light of forgiveness. I forgave myself for the pain in my past, and for hiding that past inside me with my fear and my disgrace. I haven’t told my whole story yet, but the part I wrote about in that post is finally free and I am unashamed. I am leaving that dark room behind me, and I am not looking back.

This month’s SPC theme is enclosed spaces. See more self portraits here.