My meeting with Eliot is in the very near future. I spoke on the phone today with my PSM Practitioner. I had called because I was feeling 'crazy' again. Except I know that I'm not.
What I honestly feel in this moment . . . is that the universe is pouring all of this onto my plate in a way that is completely overwhelming . . . so that I will finally just step down . . . surrender . . . and give it up to a higher connection.
And honestly, that's all that I can do. I don't know which direction to go right now. I don't feel defeated. Just completely perplexed.
So . . . I made a drawing of how I got from TCM to my current vision for the future . . . mmmm . . . to help me when I talk to Eliot. It makes me laugh.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Calling
It occurred to me this evening, that I spend an almost obnoxious amount of time writing. For my contract positions, in my journal, and in my three blogs. Literally, every day is filled with words. Curious. I have never written this much in my life . . . and never for paid purposes. But I see health in it. Wholeness. Among the many things that the man who sexually abused me stripped me of . . . was a journal that I had kept during the time of the abuse. He took it from me and never returned it. In part because it detailed the abuse that my young mind was still trying to sort out. It was the only physical evidence of what had occurred in my time of knowing him. And it was perhaps even more dis-empowering to me than the actual abuse itself. My journals have always been sacred to me. They still are.
So I find empowerment and strength in seeing this increase in writing activity (beyond my own journals) as I make a conscious decision to move into this process of healing. Almost as if every word that I write allows me to take back the power that he took from me. That seems to be a compelling way to complete the circle.
In that, I am finally ready to share here what it was that unraveled this past weekend. I'm in a much more confident place than I was before regarding the calling that I heard. And I feel profoundly inspired to do what is necessary to move forward.
I did a writer's weekend with my platonic soul mate . . . stowed away on her partner's little sailboat, we both had a lot of things to accomplish, and we work well together. On Sunday, I was working on a book that I want to begin writing - about women's health. And while I was writing, I mumbled that I should just study Public Health, as I realized that this was going to be bigger than just a book . . . and saw how it was equivalent in scope to the nonprofit organization that I am in the midst of setting up (for CAM practitioners). My partner in crime picked up on what I muttered and proceeded to play devil's advocate with me for ten minutes or so . . . and then I went back to work after sharing that I knew I needed to take some time in nature soon to check in with myself to see when I should return to graduate school for TCM. Five minutes later, the meltdown began.
I had to step outside of the cabin . . . I was in tears as I felt something in my heart and in my body shifting profoundly. Grandfather Fire, the ocean, and the gods shared several messages with me . . . which started with telling me that I was being asked to leave my TCM studies to pursue my Masters in Public Health in order to bring the Elders of the Indigenous tribes much more deeply into the community. That this was the reason why I was so strongly connected into the organizations that I talked about in the last blog entry. I was meant to learn and absorb as much as I could from them in order to support this path.
Now, you need to understand that I don't have a very deep understanding of what one does with a Masters in Public Health. And it's not as if I was 'looking' to change my Master's Path. Anything but. So it seemed rather ludicrous (as do most callings that I receive) to hear this . . . I felt more than a bit crazy. And had it stopped there, perhaps I would have not felt so overwhelmed. But the universe likes to deliver "BIG" these days . . . and so there was more.
I was told that the nonprofit that I was developing would actually be much larger and slightly different in scope than I had first imagined. That it would serve as an incubation space for other public health projects, and that it would include all of the work that I wanted to do (with CAM professionals, with women's health) and also with the indigenous Elders. Uh . . . really? Okay . . .
Next . . . they requested that I study Plant Spirit Medicine . . . that this was the avenue (for me) of learning Chinese Medicine . . . it would provide a solid grounding to the natural world that I would need as I embarked on all of these projects. Moving forward, they assured me that my decision to utilize pilgrimage in order to heal from the trauma of the sexual abuse and rape, was completely appropriate and necessary. And that after doing this, I would be given what I needed in order to apprentice with Eliot on the path of the Marakame. This would provide the lineage that I had been seeking in my TCM studies.
And then the ocean piped in loud and clear . . . calling me to hear her story and to share it with others. Mmm . . . a lifetime of fear of water made this an interesting request. I love the ocean . . . but can't swim . . . and a little over a year ago I tried to tame that fear by walking into the ocean up to my neck and hanging out for an hour or so. Part of that was a process of rebirth. And part of that was trying to close a circle of healing for the abortion. It shifted my relationship with the ocean, but the fear is still present. So I'm not quite certain how I will heed her call. Though I know that I will.
I was asked to continue my work as a Massage Therapist, because it would provide me legitimacy in all of my work. I was also asked to continue to focus on women's health as my specialty . . . that doing so would help me to heal, and that it would also help to support the prophecy that it is the women of this world who will bring us out of crisis and heal the Earth and its' inhabitants. And in continuing my work as a Massage Therapist I was asked to continue to develop the community and the space that I was creating in my back yard . . . that it was an experimental playground for me in order to learn more about how to cultivate community and how community supports health.
And all of this would not only fit under the umbrella of a Masters in Public Health . . . but it would also all lead me back to my studio work and feed that as well.
So . . . I have started researching graduate school programs . . . and have slowly been sharing this calling with people that I love and trust. And slowly I am feeling less and less crazy and more and more excited.
Tis all for now . . .
So I find empowerment and strength in seeing this increase in writing activity (beyond my own journals) as I make a conscious decision to move into this process of healing. Almost as if every word that I write allows me to take back the power that he took from me. That seems to be a compelling way to complete the circle.
In that, I am finally ready to share here what it was that unraveled this past weekend. I'm in a much more confident place than I was before regarding the calling that I heard. And I feel profoundly inspired to do what is necessary to move forward.
I did a writer's weekend with my platonic soul mate . . . stowed away on her partner's little sailboat, we both had a lot of things to accomplish, and we work well together. On Sunday, I was working on a book that I want to begin writing - about women's health. And while I was writing, I mumbled that I should just study Public Health, as I realized that this was going to be bigger than just a book . . . and saw how it was equivalent in scope to the nonprofit organization that I am in the midst of setting up (for CAM practitioners). My partner in crime picked up on what I muttered and proceeded to play devil's advocate with me for ten minutes or so . . . and then I went back to work after sharing that I knew I needed to take some time in nature soon to check in with myself to see when I should return to graduate school for TCM. Five minutes later, the meltdown began.
I had to step outside of the cabin . . . I was in tears as I felt something in my heart and in my body shifting profoundly. Grandfather Fire, the ocean, and the gods shared several messages with me . . . which started with telling me that I was being asked to leave my TCM studies to pursue my Masters in Public Health in order to bring the Elders of the Indigenous tribes much more deeply into the community. That this was the reason why I was so strongly connected into the organizations that I talked about in the last blog entry. I was meant to learn and absorb as much as I could from them in order to support this path.
Now, you need to understand that I don't have a very deep understanding of what one does with a Masters in Public Health. And it's not as if I was 'looking' to change my Master's Path. Anything but. So it seemed rather ludicrous (as do most callings that I receive) to hear this . . . I felt more than a bit crazy. And had it stopped there, perhaps I would have not felt so overwhelmed. But the universe likes to deliver "BIG" these days . . . and so there was more.
I was told that the nonprofit that I was developing would actually be much larger and slightly different in scope than I had first imagined. That it would serve as an incubation space for other public health projects, and that it would include all of the work that I wanted to do (with CAM professionals, with women's health) and also with the indigenous Elders. Uh . . . really? Okay . . .
Next . . . they requested that I study Plant Spirit Medicine . . . that this was the avenue (for me) of learning Chinese Medicine . . . it would provide a solid grounding to the natural world that I would need as I embarked on all of these projects. Moving forward, they assured me that my decision to utilize pilgrimage in order to heal from the trauma of the sexual abuse and rape, was completely appropriate and necessary. And that after doing this, I would be given what I needed in order to apprentice with Eliot on the path of the Marakame. This would provide the lineage that I had been seeking in my TCM studies.
And then the ocean piped in loud and clear . . . calling me to hear her story and to share it with others. Mmm . . . a lifetime of fear of water made this an interesting request. I love the ocean . . . but can't swim . . . and a little over a year ago I tried to tame that fear by walking into the ocean up to my neck and hanging out for an hour or so. Part of that was a process of rebirth. And part of that was trying to close a circle of healing for the abortion. It shifted my relationship with the ocean, but the fear is still present. So I'm not quite certain how I will heed her call. Though I know that I will.
I was asked to continue my work as a Massage Therapist, because it would provide me legitimacy in all of my work. I was also asked to continue to focus on women's health as my specialty . . . that doing so would help me to heal, and that it would also help to support the prophecy that it is the women of this world who will bring us out of crisis and heal the Earth and its' inhabitants. And in continuing my work as a Massage Therapist I was asked to continue to develop the community and the space that I was creating in my back yard . . . that it was an experimental playground for me in order to learn more about how to cultivate community and how community supports health.
And all of this would not only fit under the umbrella of a Masters in Public Health . . . but it would also all lead me back to my studio work and feed that as well.
So . . . I have started researching graduate school programs . . . and have slowly been sharing this calling with people that I love and trust. And slowly I am feeling less and less crazy and more and more excited.
Tis all for now . . .
Monday, October 26, 2009
My Spiritual Life . . . Explained
So, due to a recent moment of enlightenment that has temporarily turned my world upside down, I find myself in a place where I *need* to explain my spiritual life. If I don't, then explaining what happened this weekend will not make complete sense. And each of you know that I have this annoying habit of being thorough. Let's see if I can also be concise this evening.
Sacred Fire Community - I was introduced to this community by an instructor approximately one year after I moved here. This is where it all began. I went. Sat around a fire with a group of strangers I didn't know. Simultaneously felt incredibly uncomfortable and also the strongest sense of community I had ever known. I left and didn't return to these monthly fires again for almost a year, even though they called to me, and even though I had received signs on that first night that this was to be part of my 'home'.
The above community was started by Eliot Cowan, who brought Plant Spirit Medicine (PSM) to the United States, in part due to his connection with J.R. Worsley and his studies of acupuncture. He wrote a book about it, that was recommended by the same instructor mentioned above. The first time I passed the book in the store I thought 'hooey' and kept on walking. Then, one day when I was looking for something to take me out of my head and away from all of the memorizing that I was doing for my studies, so I picked the book up again and this time, bought it. I read it from cover to cover several times, and thought about my own connections with the Sequoia trees.
I wanted to learn more about PSM, but had some deep skepticism regarding it as well, so I kept my distance. Every once in awhile I would hear that Eliot was in town speaking somewhere, but the timing never seemed to work out. Then, in December of 2008, an email for the Interspiritual Conference came across my screen. And guess who was being featured among the Elders speaking that day. I saw that there were scholarships available, and decided that if I could obtain a scholarship, then I would go. I didn't know who any of the other Elders were, only Eliot. The scholarship process was a lottery. And when I heard this I assumed that I wouldn't be chosen, so I soon forgot about it. Then just two weeks before the Conference was set to take place, I received an email stating that I had been chosen for a partial scholarship. After much hemming and hawing, I chose to accept it and decided that the worst case scenario would include hearing Eliot speak and then spending the rest of the time hiking.
Over the course of 2.5 days, my life changed. It seemed as though every moment and every person that I connected with was intentionally placed in my path to deliver something to me. Not only did I have the opportunity to meet many of the people from the fire community that I had attended, including the Firekeeper, but I also slowly found myself hearing wisdom from Elders of Indigenous cultures that echoed some of the deepest held beliefs that I had regarding nature and our relationship to it. I was completely overwhelmed. And then, on the very last day, surrounded by this beautiful community, I heard Eliot speak about the Huichol Indians and their relationship to the physical landscape. How each rock, tree, blade of grass, flower, etc was an ancestor to be listened to. And in hearing him speak, the whole world around me faded until the only thing I was aware of was his voice, and a deep aching sensation in my bones. By the time he finished, I was in tears.
Later that evening, I had the opportunity to sit with the community and watch David Wiley channel the spirit of Grandfather Fire. I was simultaneously deeply skeptical and deeply intrigued. When I went to him and offered a cigar as gratitude, I instinctively knew that there was no 'act' in what I had just seen.
I had found my community - SFC. My spiritual path - Fire. My teachers - Eliot & Grandfather Fire. And my medicine - PSM and Huichol Medicine.
The process for walking into all of this has slowly been unfolding over the past 8 months. It has been a process filled with doubt, and also filled with incredible beauty and healing. I've been the recipient of many PSM treatments which have profoundly shifted me in ways that Chinese Medicine had never been able to and I also received one Huichol Medicine session from a Marakame (Huichol Shaman) in the local community that completed the circle for me in healing from an abortion 8 years ago. I've also had the opportunity to speak with Eliot privately regarding the call I have felt to the path of the Marakame. And I will be meeting with him again to make application for pilgrimage for this.
Making application for pilgrimage has been a struggle for me to accept. I feel a bit twitchy when people use the word 'shaman'. There's a new age bent to it that is not always rooted in indigenous cultures and can be dangerous. It is also something that several years ago I would have laughed at and deemed as 'airy fairy'. But the longer that I have tried to ignore the call, the louder it has become. Essentially, at its roots, it's about bringing people back to nature in the rituals and wisdom of generations of individuals who have sustained life on this planet, in balance with the Earth.
One of the things that I found intriguing about being on the path of the Marakame, is that you are required to have a partner in order to be on the path. Being on the path is about full expression of living . . . and in their eyes, you cannot possibly be living fully if you are single. It, of course, is also about having an anchor to return to in this world, as you do this work. So, if you are single and feel called to begin this path, you can do what is called a 'boon' . . . which is essentially going to pilgrimage as a visitor and giving gratitude to the sacred site . . . and in that, setting the intention of asking the gods to provide you with someone who will be your partner in this lifetime. It would be the modern day equivalent of creating a television commercial about yourself and airing it for ten days straight across the entire world in order to find your mate. Except the gods do most of the sorting for you ;)
When I originally felt this call and spoke with Eliot, I spoke with him thinking that I would go on a boon. However, things have shifted for me in the past couple of months, and rather than use this first pilgrimage to seek a life partner (whom I already believe to be 8), I have felt deeply called to use it as an opportunity to heal from my experiences of sexual abuse and rape . . . that was part of the message I received when I was with 8 and went hiking . . . I just didn't understand the complete picture until I returned home.
There are many details that I don't know about what this path looks like. A significant amount of it is only revealed as you move forward in order to protect the sacred ways of the Huichol Indians. And some of it, I know, but I can't and won't be able to share. But what I do know brings great comfort and joy to me . . . it resonates. And so I feel comfortable stepping forward, with all of the support that has been provided to me in the SFC, and through my PSM practitioner, the Marakames, and Eliot, into something that my heart is calling for. My connections into this community and into this spiritual path has brought so much peace and richness into my world. And the gifts continue to unfold to me daily as I find myself navigating tremendous shifts in my world, with far less distress than I have ever known before. There is an element of trust and surrender that I experience now . . . and there is also a much deeper connection to my own body and my own needs as well. I feel authentic in who I am. I feel as though I have nothing to hide with the people that I have met through these communities. That is rare. They truly have become 'home' to me.
The skepticism has remained in a smaller capacity. It's healthy, I think. It has kept me in check as I explore all of this. But in the grand scheme, the further that I allow myself to become a part of this community and listen to the call of my heart, the more beautiful my life has become.
And because I did not do such a job at being 'concise', I will leave the details of what happened this weekend to another blog entry.
Sacred Fire Community - I was introduced to this community by an instructor approximately one year after I moved here. This is where it all began. I went. Sat around a fire with a group of strangers I didn't know. Simultaneously felt incredibly uncomfortable and also the strongest sense of community I had ever known. I left and didn't return to these monthly fires again for almost a year, even though they called to me, and even though I had received signs on that first night that this was to be part of my 'home'.
The above community was started by Eliot Cowan, who brought Plant Spirit Medicine (PSM) to the United States, in part due to his connection with J.R. Worsley and his studies of acupuncture. He wrote a book about it, that was recommended by the same instructor mentioned above. The first time I passed the book in the store I thought 'hooey' and kept on walking. Then, one day when I was looking for something to take me out of my head and away from all of the memorizing that I was doing for my studies, so I picked the book up again and this time, bought it. I read it from cover to cover several times, and thought about my own connections with the Sequoia trees.
I wanted to learn more about PSM, but had some deep skepticism regarding it as well, so I kept my distance. Every once in awhile I would hear that Eliot was in town speaking somewhere, but the timing never seemed to work out. Then, in December of 2008, an email for the Interspiritual Conference came across my screen. And guess who was being featured among the Elders speaking that day. I saw that there were scholarships available, and decided that if I could obtain a scholarship, then I would go. I didn't know who any of the other Elders were, only Eliot. The scholarship process was a lottery. And when I heard this I assumed that I wouldn't be chosen, so I soon forgot about it. Then just two weeks before the Conference was set to take place, I received an email stating that I had been chosen for a partial scholarship. After much hemming and hawing, I chose to accept it and decided that the worst case scenario would include hearing Eliot speak and then spending the rest of the time hiking.
Over the course of 2.5 days, my life changed. It seemed as though every moment and every person that I connected with was intentionally placed in my path to deliver something to me. Not only did I have the opportunity to meet many of the people from the fire community that I had attended, including the Firekeeper, but I also slowly found myself hearing wisdom from Elders of Indigenous cultures that echoed some of the deepest held beliefs that I had regarding nature and our relationship to it. I was completely overwhelmed. And then, on the very last day, surrounded by this beautiful community, I heard Eliot speak about the Huichol Indians and their relationship to the physical landscape. How each rock, tree, blade of grass, flower, etc was an ancestor to be listened to. And in hearing him speak, the whole world around me faded until the only thing I was aware of was his voice, and a deep aching sensation in my bones. By the time he finished, I was in tears.
Later that evening, I had the opportunity to sit with the community and watch David Wiley channel the spirit of Grandfather Fire. I was simultaneously deeply skeptical and deeply intrigued. When I went to him and offered a cigar as gratitude, I instinctively knew that there was no 'act' in what I had just seen.
I had found my community - SFC. My spiritual path - Fire. My teachers - Eliot & Grandfather Fire. And my medicine - PSM and Huichol Medicine.
The process for walking into all of this has slowly been unfolding over the past 8 months. It has been a process filled with doubt, and also filled with incredible beauty and healing. I've been the recipient of many PSM treatments which have profoundly shifted me in ways that Chinese Medicine had never been able to and I also received one Huichol Medicine session from a Marakame (Huichol Shaman) in the local community that completed the circle for me in healing from an abortion 8 years ago. I've also had the opportunity to speak with Eliot privately regarding the call I have felt to the path of the Marakame. And I will be meeting with him again to make application for pilgrimage for this.
Making application for pilgrimage has been a struggle for me to accept. I feel a bit twitchy when people use the word 'shaman'. There's a new age bent to it that is not always rooted in indigenous cultures and can be dangerous. It is also something that several years ago I would have laughed at and deemed as 'airy fairy'. But the longer that I have tried to ignore the call, the louder it has become. Essentially, at its roots, it's about bringing people back to nature in the rituals and wisdom of generations of individuals who have sustained life on this planet, in balance with the Earth.
One of the things that I found intriguing about being on the path of the Marakame, is that you are required to have a partner in order to be on the path. Being on the path is about full expression of living . . . and in their eyes, you cannot possibly be living fully if you are single. It, of course, is also about having an anchor to return to in this world, as you do this work. So, if you are single and feel called to begin this path, you can do what is called a 'boon' . . . which is essentially going to pilgrimage as a visitor and giving gratitude to the sacred site . . . and in that, setting the intention of asking the gods to provide you with someone who will be your partner in this lifetime. It would be the modern day equivalent of creating a television commercial about yourself and airing it for ten days straight across the entire world in order to find your mate. Except the gods do most of the sorting for you ;)
When I originally felt this call and spoke with Eliot, I spoke with him thinking that I would go on a boon. However, things have shifted for me in the past couple of months, and rather than use this first pilgrimage to seek a life partner (whom I already believe to be 8), I have felt deeply called to use it as an opportunity to heal from my experiences of sexual abuse and rape . . . that was part of the message I received when I was with 8 and went hiking . . . I just didn't understand the complete picture until I returned home.
There are many details that I don't know about what this path looks like. A significant amount of it is only revealed as you move forward in order to protect the sacred ways of the Huichol Indians. And some of it, I know, but I can't and won't be able to share. But what I do know brings great comfort and joy to me . . . it resonates. And so I feel comfortable stepping forward, with all of the support that has been provided to me in the SFC, and through my PSM practitioner, the Marakames, and Eliot, into something that my heart is calling for. My connections into this community and into this spiritual path has brought so much peace and richness into my world. And the gifts continue to unfold to me daily as I find myself navigating tremendous shifts in my world, with far less distress than I have ever known before. There is an element of trust and surrender that I experience now . . . and there is also a much deeper connection to my own body and my own needs as well. I feel authentic in who I am. I feel as though I have nothing to hide with the people that I have met through these communities. That is rare. They truly have become 'home' to me.
The skepticism has remained in a smaller capacity. It's healthy, I think. It has kept me in check as I explore all of this. But in the grand scheme, the further that I allow myself to become a part of this community and listen to the call of my heart, the more beautiful my life has become.
And because I did not do such a job at being 'concise', I will leave the details of what happened this weekend to another blog entry.
Friday, October 23, 2009
How Do I Do This?
I put myself in a hot epsom salts bath last night after I came home from class and wrote. I was supposed to have had a massage but it had been canceled. Unfortunately. And I was beginning to freak out a little bit because I felt so weird in my own skin . . . and I knew that I would be doing bodywork with a client today. Not only has it been two months since I've done bodywork - due to my body's most recent smackdown regarding my job situation . . . but I also was having the weird day that I wrote about yesterday.
So to bath. And then to bed. With (finally) a blissful night of sleep. And this morning, when I woke up, I knew that I needed to take care of myself. I felt completely empty and detached from myself. It took me an hour to find my way out from under the covers. And when I finally stood on my own two feet, the first thought in my head was 'how do I do this?'. Intellectually, I knew that I needed to spend time this morning grounding myself back into my skin. But when I posed the question, there was no response from my body as to what it needed. Almost like a circuit had been switched off.
So I stumbled around my apartment for awhile and cleaned up . . . still feeling empty and detached. Even after lighting a candle - part of my morning ritual . . . I still just felt 'outside' of the experience. What next? Shower? Mantras? Flower essences? Meditation? Breakfast? What?
More wandering. And then finally I did take some Minimus flower essences. Slowly I found my way into my skin . . . and decided to start with yoga. Breathing and opening . . . I always forget and am always reminded . . . how painful it can be to breathe . . . how it will bring tears to my eyes in certain asanas . . . and then how reconnected I feel after I've breathed through the pain. This morning was like that. The practice brought me back to myself, and helped me to understand what I needed.
I followed yoga with meditation. Everyday the meditation is slightly different . . . certain pieces from my altar call to be included . . . and they tell me, in the calling what it is that they are bringing to the space. This morning, as I set the space, I realized that my grandmothers and Raihan were calling to me. Mama Sequoia as well.
It was a beautiful meditation. I have such gratitude for what they bring to my life and to my soul. And now, it's time to shower and prepare for the day.
8 has already sent me an email that made me howl with laughter. Followed by a text message that did the same. I have such gratitude for her choosing to be in my life.
So to bath. And then to bed. With (finally) a blissful night of sleep. And this morning, when I woke up, I knew that I needed to take care of myself. I felt completely empty and detached from myself. It took me an hour to find my way out from under the covers. And when I finally stood on my own two feet, the first thought in my head was 'how do I do this?'. Intellectually, I knew that I needed to spend time this morning grounding myself back into my skin. But when I posed the question, there was no response from my body as to what it needed. Almost like a circuit had been switched off.
So I stumbled around my apartment for awhile and cleaned up . . . still feeling empty and detached. Even after lighting a candle - part of my morning ritual . . . I still just felt 'outside' of the experience. What next? Shower? Mantras? Flower essences? Meditation? Breakfast? What?
More wandering. And then finally I did take some Minimus flower essences. Slowly I found my way into my skin . . . and decided to start with yoga. Breathing and opening . . . I always forget and am always reminded . . . how painful it can be to breathe . . . how it will bring tears to my eyes in certain asanas . . . and then how reconnected I feel after I've breathed through the pain. This morning was like that. The practice brought me back to myself, and helped me to understand what I needed.
I followed yoga with meditation. Everyday the meditation is slightly different . . . certain pieces from my altar call to be included . . . and they tell me, in the calling what it is that they are bringing to the space. This morning, as I set the space, I realized that my grandmothers and Raihan were calling to me. Mama Sequoia as well.
It was a beautiful meditation. I have such gratitude for what they bring to my life and to my soul. And now, it's time to shower and prepare for the day.
8 has already sent me an email that made me howl with laughter. Followed by a text message that did the same. I have such gratitude for her choosing to be in my life.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Feeling 'Off' . . .
I had a truly odd experience while biking to class today. The chastity belt sensation persisted. But I also just felt uprooted. As though I didn't know where I ended and the rest of the world began. Every single curb that I came close to I almost knocked into. I simply could not calculate the distance and control my bike accordingly. Thankfully the cars cut me a break - save for one guy in an SUV who decided to cut me off and then wolf-whistled at me afterwards. Insult to injury. Yes.
I was wearing my favorite blue ribbed t-shirt and my jeans, rolled up to my knees with my biking shoes. One of my favorite outfits to bike in. But I recognize that it does leave me appearing a bit more masculine. Normally I don't care. But today it left me feeling twitchy the entire time I was biking. I just wanted to get off my bike and change my clothes. I felt like a monster. And I was feeling incredible sensitive in making eye contact with men - as if they could somehow see through my clothes. And through me.
So . . . twitchy . . . uncomfortable . . . uprooted . . . vulnerable . . . with no sense of boundaries.
I think part of it has to do with the dietary transition. I'm used to having food in my diet that acts as a ballast in grounding me. Now, with the elimination of wheat, sugar, dairy, and eating less protein and more vegetables, not only have I lost some of the 'grounding' sensation that the food brought . . . but my energy is also naturally just lifting higher because the quality and energy of the food is better. It's weird.
The one thing I will say about biking tonight is that . . . well two things . . . 1) it was easier today than it has been in quite awhile to bike - more energy, better flow, better body mechanics (even if I couldn't navigate the bike properly around curbs) and 2) biking home tonight as the fog was rolling in with the crescent moon above, was absolutely beautiful.
I was wearing my favorite blue ribbed t-shirt and my jeans, rolled up to my knees with my biking shoes. One of my favorite outfits to bike in. But I recognize that it does leave me appearing a bit more masculine. Normally I don't care. But today it left me feeling twitchy the entire time I was biking. I just wanted to get off my bike and change my clothes. I felt like a monster. And I was feeling incredible sensitive in making eye contact with men - as if they could somehow see through my clothes. And through me.
So . . . twitchy . . . uncomfortable . . . uprooted . . . vulnerable . . . with no sense of boundaries.
I think part of it has to do with the dietary transition. I'm used to having food in my diet that acts as a ballast in grounding me. Now, with the elimination of wheat, sugar, dairy, and eating less protein and more vegetables, not only have I lost some of the 'grounding' sensation that the food brought . . . but my energy is also naturally just lifting higher because the quality and energy of the food is better. It's weird.
The one thing I will say about biking tonight is that . . . well two things . . . 1) it was easier today than it has been in quite awhile to bike - more energy, better flow, better body mechanics (even if I couldn't navigate the bike properly around curbs) and 2) biking home tonight as the fog was rolling in with the crescent moon above, was absolutely beautiful.
Paradox Unraveled
I'm having a hard time with food today. I made lunch - red cabbage, eggplant, radishes, and kale sauteed in balsamic vinagrette with 2 hard-boiled eggs and some cultured greens. And there was something about the texture and taste that turned my stomach and made it difficult for me to chew, much less swallow. I had this exact same dish two days ago and had no problem. So I'm not quite certain what has happened or where it stems from. It seems to be evoking something rather distant and disturbing, but my conscious self can't quite unravel what that might be.
I had an interesting moment on Tuesday afternoon . . . where I realized the contradictory nature of my mindset in terms of my physical self. I was on a conference call for business development purposes, and being coached by the woman leading the call. She asked me to list things that we have not yet achieved and the mindsets that have stopped us from doing so. Then she asked us to list the things we have achieved that truly aligned with who we were, and the personal qualities that we used to get there. And I found a rather interesting paradox.
I listed 'training for the AIDs Ride' as an unfulfilled goal that I have . . . and the mindset was that I was too weak and wouldn't be able to sustain myself physically in it. But then under what I have achieved, I listed 'health/vitality' . . . that would be quite the opposite of being weak, yes? The paradox grows deeper . . . a few weeks ago I finally acknowledged to myself (in part because of this business development course) that I want to specialize in Women's Health and Wellness as an LMT and an LAc. However, when I was writing an article on PMS and Chinese Herbs for this company that I'm contracting with . . . I used some incredibly strong, negative words to describe the female menstrual cycle and ensuing imbalances. I had emailed a copy of the article to 8, asking for her feedback . . . in part because she works with women day in and day out. She pointed out the verbage that I was using in the article and how it had a very different tone from what I used when I was talking about the herbs. So I rewrote it, and changed the tone . . . and her response was that the version sounded like it was written 'for a woman, by a woman'.
It caused me to question the nature of my perspectives on being a woman. Especially since that very same day, I was in the middle of ovulating, and recognized just how uncomfortable I was with the knowledge of what my body was doing. I wanted to crawl out of my skin . . . and it wasn't all about the increased physical desire that it produced. Some of it was just pure discomfort over the knowledge that the process was occurring. Nothing felt 'natural' or 'life-giving'. And when I couldn't sit in it any longer, I took a walk and bought a cookie to eat . . . to cut that awareness out of my conscious self.
So this leads me to wonder if there is a root belief within my physical self that I am too 'weak' . . . and how this fits into the discomfort that I feel in a very natural process in my body. Was this a response to the sexual abuse and rape? Or does this stem even further - back to the physical abuse that I encountered as a child, and my mother's detachment and unwillingness to educate me about my own body? Is it culturally ingrained as well? And how will all of this feed into the path I'm on right now?
Where do I start?
Even today, I don't feel centered in my body. I feel myself energetically trying to avoid everything between my upper thighs and belly button. Like an energetic chastity belt of sorts . . . it's odd.
I had an interesting moment on Tuesday afternoon . . . where I realized the contradictory nature of my mindset in terms of my physical self. I was on a conference call for business development purposes, and being coached by the woman leading the call. She asked me to list things that we have not yet achieved and the mindsets that have stopped us from doing so. Then she asked us to list the things we have achieved that truly aligned with who we were, and the personal qualities that we used to get there. And I found a rather interesting paradox.
I listed 'training for the AIDs Ride' as an unfulfilled goal that I have . . . and the mindset was that I was too weak and wouldn't be able to sustain myself physically in it. But then under what I have achieved, I listed 'health/vitality' . . . that would be quite the opposite of being weak, yes? The paradox grows deeper . . . a few weeks ago I finally acknowledged to myself (in part because of this business development course) that I want to specialize in Women's Health and Wellness as an LMT and an LAc. However, when I was writing an article on PMS and Chinese Herbs for this company that I'm contracting with . . . I used some incredibly strong, negative words to describe the female menstrual cycle and ensuing imbalances. I had emailed a copy of the article to 8, asking for her feedback . . . in part because she works with women day in and day out. She pointed out the verbage that I was using in the article and how it had a very different tone from what I used when I was talking about the herbs. So I rewrote it, and changed the tone . . . and her response was that the version sounded like it was written 'for a woman, by a woman'.
It caused me to question the nature of my perspectives on being a woman. Especially since that very same day, I was in the middle of ovulating, and recognized just how uncomfortable I was with the knowledge of what my body was doing. I wanted to crawl out of my skin . . . and it wasn't all about the increased physical desire that it produced. Some of it was just pure discomfort over the knowledge that the process was occurring. Nothing felt 'natural' or 'life-giving'. And when I couldn't sit in it any longer, I took a walk and bought a cookie to eat . . . to cut that awareness out of my conscious self.
So this leads me to wonder if there is a root belief within my physical self that I am too 'weak' . . . and how this fits into the discomfort that I feel in a very natural process in my body. Was this a response to the sexual abuse and rape? Or does this stem even further - back to the physical abuse that I encountered as a child, and my mother's detachment and unwillingness to educate me about my own body? Is it culturally ingrained as well? And how will all of this feed into the path I'm on right now?
Where do I start?
Even today, I don't feel centered in my body. I feel myself energetically trying to avoid everything between my upper thighs and belly button. Like an energetic chastity belt of sorts . . . it's odd.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Safety in Community
I spoke with the female Marakame tonight. (this all sounds very mysterious doesn't it? But I promise that it's one of the most grounded communities and healers I have ever experienced. I will take some time in the next week to see if I can explain more about them.)
I was anxious for most of the day. And irritable. I was having problems with my internet connection for most of the day which was leading me to the ends of the world in terms of aggravation. The flashing red DSL light was maddening. And making my work impossible to do. So an hour prior to the time I said that I would phone, I finally made myself stop trying to do anything (as if I were truly accomplishing anything anyhow), and I put myself on the yoga mat. It was good.
6 PM came. I phoned. An answering machine. Fuck. Really? An entire day spent with my heart wrapped in knots over this. And no answer? Fuck.
So I hung up and continued my aimless bouncing back and forth. Then a phone call with 8 . . . that evoked more than I could put here or anywhere, really. And then, I tried again, and this time I finally did connect with the female Marakame. Of course my side of the conversation with her felt rather aimless as well. None of the well-formed sentences that I had the night prior when speaking to a good friend arrived . . . she must have thought me mad. Or at the very least, quite inept in the communication department.
But beyond that, this I will say. She made me feel incredibly safe. And not just with her. But with the entire community of people in my life that have brought me to asking her for help. Including the Tsurinaame that I want to apprentice under. In only a few sentences. I could hear her heart in them. I know that I can trust these people, this community, this spiritual path to lead me home.
So, her suggestion, after we went through all of the details . . . was to have the meeting I had already scheduled with the Tsurinaame regarding my call to pilgrimage. And explain to him how things have shifted and clarified for me regarding what I feel the call is for in healing. And to share honestly that I have spoken with her, and see what his thoughts are regarding the path that would be the most beneficial to me in healing. It may be that he has some insight into all of this. It may be that he feels called to do this work with me through pilgrimage. It may be that he agrees that I should pursue the work with the female Marakame instead. I don't know. But the female Marakame has shared with me that I can be completely honest with him. That his ultimate goal in working with me, in any capacity, is to help me to heal. And that if I have any discomfort or questions, all that I need to do is share those with him, and he will respectfully hear them and help me to find comfort in the process.
So, my meeting with him is tentatively set for the morning of November 1st. We will see what comes of it and how it all unfolds.
I was anxious for most of the day. And irritable. I was having problems with my internet connection for most of the day which was leading me to the ends of the world in terms of aggravation. The flashing red DSL light was maddening. And making my work impossible to do. So an hour prior to the time I said that I would phone, I finally made myself stop trying to do anything (as if I were truly accomplishing anything anyhow), and I put myself on the yoga mat. It was good.
6 PM came. I phoned. An answering machine. Fuck. Really? An entire day spent with my heart wrapped in knots over this. And no answer? Fuck.
So I hung up and continued my aimless bouncing back and forth. Then a phone call with 8 . . . that evoked more than I could put here or anywhere, really. And then, I tried again, and this time I finally did connect with the female Marakame. Of course my side of the conversation with her felt rather aimless as well. None of the well-formed sentences that I had the night prior when speaking to a good friend arrived . . . she must have thought me mad. Or at the very least, quite inept in the communication department.
But beyond that, this I will say. She made me feel incredibly safe. And not just with her. But with the entire community of people in my life that have brought me to asking her for help. Including the Tsurinaame that I want to apprentice under. In only a few sentences. I could hear her heart in them. I know that I can trust these people, this community, this spiritual path to lead me home.
So, her suggestion, after we went through all of the details . . . was to have the meeting I had already scheduled with the Tsurinaame regarding my call to pilgrimage. And explain to him how things have shifted and clarified for me regarding what I feel the call is for in healing. And to share honestly that I have spoken with her, and see what his thoughts are regarding the path that would be the most beneficial to me in healing. It may be that he has some insight into all of this. It may be that he feels called to do this work with me through pilgrimage. It may be that he agrees that I should pursue the work with the female Marakame instead. I don't know. But the female Marakame has shared with me that I can be completely honest with him. That his ultimate goal in working with me, in any capacity, is to help me to heal. And that if I have any discomfort or questions, all that I need to do is share those with him, and he will respectfully hear them and help me to find comfort in the process.
So, my meeting with him is tentatively set for the morning of November 1st. We will see what comes of it and how it all unfolds.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Taking Pause
Today has been a busy day. The downside to taking 24 hours away from technology is that you crash-land into it upon your return. And today started with a 2.5 hour conference call for one of the organizations I'm contracting with. This, combined with my dietary regimen that leaves me feeling as though my feet are floating up by my eyeballs, makes for an interesting tornado of a day. It does not, however, make for a good day to take care of myself. And so, I'm sat here at 8:24 PM, having only had one full meal today at breakfast (eggplant, kale, onion and quinoa), three bites of quinoa as a snack, and several soaked almonds.
Obviously, I need to work on this.
8 and I spoke on the phone today, and also chatted later on Messenger. I think when I said that I would 'embrace' this process, my brain was only allowing me to think of the good, glorious, and beautiful things. Not the mucky, dirty, painful things. I find my brain does that often . . . especially when I go hiking . . . oh yes, it's a BEAUTIFUL trail . . . my absolute FAVORITE . . . but I somehow forget the first two miles are steep inclines with boulders to scramble the entire way. Trail amnesia. So, I'm doing a little bit of boulder scrambling with 8 right now. And that's okay. BREATHE.
The true point of this entry (beyond it being an example that I can write for hours about nothing), is that I did send an email to the female Marakame that my PSM practitioner spoke to. Well, in complete honesty, she had written to me for another reason, and when I replied, I inquired and let her know exactly who I was. Her response was brief and gentle. As she was about to head to a fire vigil and her brain was mush. She gave me her phone number so that I could call her tomorrow. Even though I received the email immediately, I didn't respond. I still haven't. Not even to thank her.
I just needed to give pause to this process. if there is one thing that I have discovered in the past five years of doing this work - via Traditional Chinese Medicine, then via Plant Spirit Medicine, and then with the one Huichol Medicine experience I have had . . . it's that it works. Good. Yes. Great. Yes. Terrifying. Yes. Of course, that, in part, is due to my own commitment to transformation and healing. I recognize that. And my PSM Practitioner echoed that when we spoke on Friday.
So, in this moment, there is a sense of the eternal . . . of knowing that choosing to pick up the phone tomorrow and engage in this dialogue . . . sets a series of events in motion that will ultimately lead me to a healthier, more balanced place. And the process may feel completely unmanageable and terrifying. There is a part of me that questions if I truly want to engage this. I can live without sex. I can even live a lifetime being single. I have plenty of things in my world that are beautiful and fascinating and could keep my attention for decades. Wouldn't it be easier to just close the door on this quietly and walk away?
. . .
And as I ask myself that question I find a sudden craving for marshmallows . . . gee . . . do you think that is an emotional craving? :p
The reality is, I can cut the drama. I'll phone tomorrow. I know I will. For whatever god-forsaken crazy ass reason I haven't been able to find the 'off' button in this lifetime. I just keep on going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.
So here I go. For better. Or for worse. Or for something in between. It's time to give it up and surrender. Just like with 8.
I am whole. I love myself. I trust my heart.
Obviously, I need to work on this.
8 and I spoke on the phone today, and also chatted later on Messenger. I think when I said that I would 'embrace' this process, my brain was only allowing me to think of the good, glorious, and beautiful things. Not the mucky, dirty, painful things. I find my brain does that often . . . especially when I go hiking . . . oh yes, it's a BEAUTIFUL trail . . . my absolute FAVORITE . . . but I somehow forget the first two miles are steep inclines with boulders to scramble the entire way. Trail amnesia. So, I'm doing a little bit of boulder scrambling with 8 right now. And that's okay. BREATHE.
The true point of this entry (beyond it being an example that I can write for hours about nothing), is that I did send an email to the female Marakame that my PSM practitioner spoke to. Well, in complete honesty, she had written to me for another reason, and when I replied, I inquired and let her know exactly who I was. Her response was brief and gentle. As she was about to head to a fire vigil and her brain was mush. She gave me her phone number so that I could call her tomorrow. Even though I received the email immediately, I didn't respond. I still haven't. Not even to thank her.
I just needed to give pause to this process. if there is one thing that I have discovered in the past five years of doing this work - via Traditional Chinese Medicine, then via Plant Spirit Medicine, and then with the one Huichol Medicine experience I have had . . . it's that it works. Good. Yes. Great. Yes. Terrifying. Yes. Of course, that, in part, is due to my own commitment to transformation and healing. I recognize that. And my PSM Practitioner echoed that when we spoke on Friday.
So, in this moment, there is a sense of the eternal . . . of knowing that choosing to pick up the phone tomorrow and engage in this dialogue . . . sets a series of events in motion that will ultimately lead me to a healthier, more balanced place. And the process may feel completely unmanageable and terrifying. There is a part of me that questions if I truly want to engage this. I can live without sex. I can even live a lifetime being single. I have plenty of things in my world that are beautiful and fascinating and could keep my attention for decades. Wouldn't it be easier to just close the door on this quietly and walk away?
. . .
And as I ask myself that question I find a sudden craving for marshmallows . . . gee . . . do you think that is an emotional craving? :p
The reality is, I can cut the drama. I'll phone tomorrow. I know I will. For whatever god-forsaken crazy ass reason I haven't been able to find the 'off' button in this lifetime. I just keep on going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.
So here I go. For better. Or for worse. Or for something in between. It's time to give it up and surrender. Just like with 8.
I am whole. I love myself. I trust my heart.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
A Day of Receiving
It struck me last night to take today away from technology. 6 days a week I'm connected to my phone or to my laptop. And it was obvious to me that after last night's meltdown, my soul needed some rejuvenation. So I took today - from sunrise to sunset, away from technology.
8 had sent me an email this morning, letting me know that she was worried about me, and that she had lit our candle. I wrote her back and shared a dream that I had . . . one of speaking with an Indigenous Elder - a woman (not sure from which culture) and she had shared with me that my grandmothers were with me - that I carried them with me everyday . . . they were the beauty of my soul, and as such I was never alone. I had taken some mugwort and put it under my pillow last night. I had asked the mugwort to show me what I needed to know in order to heal . . . and this dream was the response. It was a beautiful dream . . . very peaceful.
And then, I dressed and I biked to the ocean. It was an overcast morning . . . clouds in the sky, the air still damp and slightly chilly. And about halfway there, I kicked into a zone and cycling became effortless. The ocean was calling. I thought perhaps when I arrived that I would meditate or do qi gong, but instead I continued to bicycle. When I reached the more exposed side of the beach, I turned around and came back . . . and in doing so, witnessed a group of surfers . . . one of whom was giving CPR to another surfer. I don't know what happened. And I don't know if they were able to resuscitate him - ambulances and the beach patrol arrived. I just know, in that moment, I said a prayer for him and gave gratitude for my own life.
I played in the tide for awhile . . . dancing with the surf . . . the ocean gave me a poem . . . one that reminded me that it was okay to trip . . . she spoke to me so strongly this morning . . . and I listened and danced with her as I wrote. Then I slowly biked home, stopping for some Kombucha . . . and spotted a card and a small token that I wanted to send to 8. Instead of going home, I went to the park near my house . . . to visit the Eucalyptus tree that I love to meditate with . . . and once there, did some qi gong in the small grove of sycamore and eucalyptus trees that grow there. And then meditated with the tree and spent some time writing in my journal. My heart felt incredibly clear. I felt incredibly connected to my body. Peace came through my soul in waves.
I biked home, and took a nap with my cat. An hour . . . which is long for me . . . in my favorite t-shirt. And then slowly propelled myself out of bed and into the bathtub . . . where I stayed for another hour or so . . . reading about Redwood trees and focusing on 'receiving'. After the bath came some small chores to help my landlord . . . and then sipping some vegetable broth in my backyard while my cat napped on my lap. And then I planted the vegetable garden, and cleaned up from the downpour of rain that we had. After that was finished, I came inside and cleaned my apartment, started laundry . . . and as the sun set, I took some time and I meditated.
Here I sit, peacefully.
What I've recognized today is that while the 'events' that have led me here are ones of sexual abuse and rape . . . the lesson and the root of all of this, is in learning to receive. I am a giver by nature - most women are. And while I have become more balanced in terms of how much I give, I have struggled in truly receiving. Being intimate with someone is about learning how to fully receive. And it's a lesson that needs to be learned in every day life . . . not just in the bedroom.
So the promise that I make to myself . . . is to give myself one day a week - most likely Sundays . . . where my focus and intention are solely about 'receiving'. Where I can play and wander and laugh and explore . . . and learn how to receive all that is available to me, in love and gratitude. I will work on this the other 6 days a week as well. But one day a week, everything will be turned off, and the focus will go inward. This is an absolute, if I wish to step into all that the gods are asking of me.
Today also gave me the opportunity to hear my heart clearly . . . regarding 8 and her role in my life . . . as I sat under the Eucalyptus tree, I wrote this as part of my journal entry:
There are moments where I feel crazy in loving her like this . . . in feeling so clear about what my heart sees in the future for us. For being so willing to feel so much . . . to open so wide. And yet it is what I feel called to do . . . so deeply and profoundly. To understand her. That is what my heart calls for. To understand her, on all levels. And to honor and respect that understanding. I feel my heart making the choice for her to be in my life. Making the choice to understand her. Choosing her to be my life partner, regardless of what the path looks like. That is what the most authentic part of my soul speaks. Clearly and loudly. And with intention. And I embrace it. I trust my heart. I trust hers. I trust the gods.
In my most recent life . . . everything that has felt 'crazy' has been an incredible gift to me . . . and has ultimately brought more joy and light into my day and into my heart. And so . . . I embrace the 'crazy' . . .
8 had sent me an email this morning, letting me know that she was worried about me, and that she had lit our candle. I wrote her back and shared a dream that I had . . . one of speaking with an Indigenous Elder - a woman (not sure from which culture) and she had shared with me that my grandmothers were with me - that I carried them with me everyday . . . they were the beauty of my soul, and as such I was never alone. I had taken some mugwort and put it under my pillow last night. I had asked the mugwort to show me what I needed to know in order to heal . . . and this dream was the response. It was a beautiful dream . . . very peaceful.
And then, I dressed and I biked to the ocean. It was an overcast morning . . . clouds in the sky, the air still damp and slightly chilly. And about halfway there, I kicked into a zone and cycling became effortless. The ocean was calling. I thought perhaps when I arrived that I would meditate or do qi gong, but instead I continued to bicycle. When I reached the more exposed side of the beach, I turned around and came back . . . and in doing so, witnessed a group of surfers . . . one of whom was giving CPR to another surfer. I don't know what happened. And I don't know if they were able to resuscitate him - ambulances and the beach patrol arrived. I just know, in that moment, I said a prayer for him and gave gratitude for my own life.
I played in the tide for awhile . . . dancing with the surf . . . the ocean gave me a poem . . . one that reminded me that it was okay to trip . . . she spoke to me so strongly this morning . . . and I listened and danced with her as I wrote. Then I slowly biked home, stopping for some Kombucha . . . and spotted a card and a small token that I wanted to send to 8. Instead of going home, I went to the park near my house . . . to visit the Eucalyptus tree that I love to meditate with . . . and once there, did some qi gong in the small grove of sycamore and eucalyptus trees that grow there. And then meditated with the tree and spent some time writing in my journal. My heart felt incredibly clear. I felt incredibly connected to my body. Peace came through my soul in waves.
I biked home, and took a nap with my cat. An hour . . . which is long for me . . . in my favorite t-shirt. And then slowly propelled myself out of bed and into the bathtub . . . where I stayed for another hour or so . . . reading about Redwood trees and focusing on 'receiving'. After the bath came some small chores to help my landlord . . . and then sipping some vegetable broth in my backyard while my cat napped on my lap. And then I planted the vegetable garden, and cleaned up from the downpour of rain that we had. After that was finished, I came inside and cleaned my apartment, started laundry . . . and as the sun set, I took some time and I meditated.
Here I sit, peacefully.
What I've recognized today is that while the 'events' that have led me here are ones of sexual abuse and rape . . . the lesson and the root of all of this, is in learning to receive. I am a giver by nature - most women are. And while I have become more balanced in terms of how much I give, I have struggled in truly receiving. Being intimate with someone is about learning how to fully receive. And it's a lesson that needs to be learned in every day life . . . not just in the bedroom.
So the promise that I make to myself . . . is to give myself one day a week - most likely Sundays . . . where my focus and intention are solely about 'receiving'. Where I can play and wander and laugh and explore . . . and learn how to receive all that is available to me, in love and gratitude. I will work on this the other 6 days a week as well. But one day a week, everything will be turned off, and the focus will go inward. This is an absolute, if I wish to step into all that the gods are asking of me.
Today also gave me the opportunity to hear my heart clearly . . . regarding 8 and her role in my life . . . as I sat under the Eucalyptus tree, I wrote this as part of my journal entry:
There are moments where I feel crazy in loving her like this . . . in feeling so clear about what my heart sees in the future for us. For being so willing to feel so much . . . to open so wide. And yet it is what I feel called to do . . . so deeply and profoundly. To understand her. That is what my heart calls for. To understand her, on all levels. And to honor and respect that understanding. I feel my heart making the choice for her to be in my life. Making the choice to understand her. Choosing her to be my life partner, regardless of what the path looks like. That is what the most authentic part of my soul speaks. Clearly and loudly. And with intention. And I embrace it. I trust my heart. I trust hers. I trust the gods.
In my most recent life . . . everything that has felt 'crazy' has been an incredible gift to me . . . and has ultimately brought more joy and light into my day and into my heart. And so . . . I embrace the 'crazy' . . .
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Numbness & Nutrition
Well folks . . . it seems as though I've jumped in the deep end of this . . . and it's only going to get deeper. Today, after a long day at school, I came home and was too exhausted to move. And this meant that I felt too exhausted to cook.
Why? Because I had broken the links of self-care today . . . starting this morning. And as a result, was one step behind all day long. By the time I came home I couldn't meet my own needs. Even if it was as simple as cooking up some eggplant for dinner.
Wednesday I started a modified diet . . . based on the Body Ecology diet. It's essentially to help ease my body of negative gut flora and replace it with positive, healthy gut flora. Strangely, it's very similar to what my body has already been craving for the past couple of weeks. So I honestly didn't think that I would have a difficult time transitioning. And in most instances, I'm not. Out of habit, I still want certain things. But when I sit down to eat, what I have in front of me is incredibly appealing to my body. So these last few days have been a breeze. Today, however, was a different story.
I think the build-up of discomfort over the week just became overwhelming to the nth degree . . . and this evening I found myself lying motionless on the futon, staring at the ceiling, starving and thinking of an avocado burrito. After an hour of internal struggle, I took a walk to the closest taco place and ordered just that . . . with a root beer . . . and then I took a walk across the street and bought a pint of chocolate ice cream and a small box of Oreo cookies. I knew exactly what I was doing. My system was on overload, and I couldn't handle feeling anything anymore. I just wanted to be numb for the rest of the evening. I felt like a criminal. Food in hand. Slinking back to my apartment. I couldn't even bear to think of what my mantras were . . . 'wholeness' and 'self-love' did not fit into what I was about to do. I came home and turned on the season premiere of Ugly Betty . . . a world of mindlessness . . . and ate the burrito . . . followed by some of the chips . . . followed by most of the cookies . . . followed by 1/4 of the pint of ice cream. And with each bite things slowly felt less and less sharp to me . . . it was a cross between feeling as though I was leaving my body . . . and feeling as though there was a lumpy blanket between my body and the pain I had felt for most of the week. It was hard to breathe. But I didn't care. I just wanted to be numb.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I realized that my plan was going to fail. I couldn't eat anymore . . . and the pain was resurfacing. And so I texted 8 . . . asked her if she could spare some love . . . she did . . . and I shared that I was having a monster of an evening . . . and why . . . She's safe for me. And she was there tonight. Helping me to breathe through it. Telling me that she was right there with me and that I was safe. Telling me that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to unlock all of this. In that moment, I needed her support . . . and a tsunami of tears and pain and wails just poured out of my soul . . . I could feel her there with me. I could feel her hand on my heart. And i struggled with that feeling. It's hard to allow someone in like that . . . when you don't know if they'll be there for real ever again. I couldn't, even if I tried, document everything that I felt in that outpouring of sobs . . . for her . . . about the abuse . . . about her . . . for him . . . it was all too much to keep track of . . .
And I ended by feeling ashamed . . . for having asked for her support. I still feel that to some degree. This needs to take place apart from her. This needs to be rooted in me. I can't run to her every time it hurts. I don't want to open that door with her . . . and have her not walk through it. So, for next time, I need better coping skills. Other outlets. Other people to call or text. Other things to do. I need to take better care of myself. I need to not place any expectation on her. I think. Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps it's okay to share some of this with her. I don't know. It all feels very unclear right now. (And considering what I ate, I'm not surprised).
I will say this . . . I'm not beating myself up over my actions this evening. I understand what happened to lead me down that road. And I've thrown out everything. I'm relieved that my stomach made me stop when it did. That I didn't polish everything off. I'm relieved that the tsunami of emotions came through. And i'm okay with the fact that I tried to numb it. I'm human. Sometimes you have to shut things off. Even if only for an hour.
With that said, I do hope not to travel down this path again. I probably will. But in all reality, I know that I don't 'NEED' to. I'm not in danger of exploding or harming myself from my emotions. I forget that I don't have the same responses that I did ten years ago. It's hard to break a very old and deeply rooted pattern. Even when I can see and feel the benefits of change. I'm safe. I can feel my emotions completely and safely.
I am whole. I love myself. I trust my heart. I am human.
Why? Because I had broken the links of self-care today . . . starting this morning. And as a result, was one step behind all day long. By the time I came home I couldn't meet my own needs. Even if it was as simple as cooking up some eggplant for dinner.
Wednesday I started a modified diet . . . based on the Body Ecology diet. It's essentially to help ease my body of negative gut flora and replace it with positive, healthy gut flora. Strangely, it's very similar to what my body has already been craving for the past couple of weeks. So I honestly didn't think that I would have a difficult time transitioning. And in most instances, I'm not. Out of habit, I still want certain things. But when I sit down to eat, what I have in front of me is incredibly appealing to my body. So these last few days have been a breeze. Today, however, was a different story.
I think the build-up of discomfort over the week just became overwhelming to the nth degree . . . and this evening I found myself lying motionless on the futon, staring at the ceiling, starving and thinking of an avocado burrito. After an hour of internal struggle, I took a walk to the closest taco place and ordered just that . . . with a root beer . . . and then I took a walk across the street and bought a pint of chocolate ice cream and a small box of Oreo cookies. I knew exactly what I was doing. My system was on overload, and I couldn't handle feeling anything anymore. I just wanted to be numb for the rest of the evening. I felt like a criminal. Food in hand. Slinking back to my apartment. I couldn't even bear to think of what my mantras were . . . 'wholeness' and 'self-love' did not fit into what I was about to do. I came home and turned on the season premiere of Ugly Betty . . . a world of mindlessness . . . and ate the burrito . . . followed by some of the chips . . . followed by most of the cookies . . . followed by 1/4 of the pint of ice cream. And with each bite things slowly felt less and less sharp to me . . . it was a cross between feeling as though I was leaving my body . . . and feeling as though there was a lumpy blanket between my body and the pain I had felt for most of the week. It was hard to breathe. But I didn't care. I just wanted to be numb.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I realized that my plan was going to fail. I couldn't eat anymore . . . and the pain was resurfacing. And so I texted 8 . . . asked her if she could spare some love . . . she did . . . and I shared that I was having a monster of an evening . . . and why . . . She's safe for me. And she was there tonight. Helping me to breathe through it. Telling me that she was right there with me and that I was safe. Telling me that it was okay to cry. That it was okay to unlock all of this. In that moment, I needed her support . . . and a tsunami of tears and pain and wails just poured out of my soul . . . I could feel her there with me. I could feel her hand on my heart. And i struggled with that feeling. It's hard to allow someone in like that . . . when you don't know if they'll be there for real ever again. I couldn't, even if I tried, document everything that I felt in that outpouring of sobs . . . for her . . . about the abuse . . . about her . . . for him . . . it was all too much to keep track of . . .
And I ended by feeling ashamed . . . for having asked for her support. I still feel that to some degree. This needs to take place apart from her. This needs to be rooted in me. I can't run to her every time it hurts. I don't want to open that door with her . . . and have her not walk through it. So, for next time, I need better coping skills. Other outlets. Other people to call or text. Other things to do. I need to take better care of myself. I need to not place any expectation on her. I think. Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps it's okay to share some of this with her. I don't know. It all feels very unclear right now. (And considering what I ate, I'm not surprised).
I will say this . . . I'm not beating myself up over my actions this evening. I understand what happened to lead me down that road. And I've thrown out everything. I'm relieved that my stomach made me stop when it did. That I didn't polish everything off. I'm relieved that the tsunami of emotions came through. And i'm okay with the fact that I tried to numb it. I'm human. Sometimes you have to shut things off. Even if only for an hour.
With that said, I do hope not to travel down this path again. I probably will. But in all reality, I know that I don't 'NEED' to. I'm not in danger of exploding or harming myself from my emotions. I forget that I don't have the same responses that I did ten years ago. It's hard to break a very old and deeply rooted pattern. Even when I can see and feel the benefits of change. I'm safe. I can feel my emotions completely and safely.
I am whole. I love myself. I trust my heart. I am human.
Cycling . . . In More Ways Than One . . .
For starters, I decided this morning that my soulmate was going to have to have a code name for my entries here. Obviously she will be mentioned here, more often than others . . . and it seems silly to refer to her as my 'soul mate' all of the time. And pretentious as well. So, from this point forward, she will be referenced as 8. Very House-ish of me, yes?
I have my reasons for referring to her as 8, of which I will mostly keep private. The only one I will reveal, is that, at this moment, there are 7 women who I have asked to witness this process through the blog. And in time, as things with 8 and I become more defined, and when it feels right, I will share this with her and she will be the 8th woman. But for right now, I need this space to be separate from her eyes. She did tell me that she is committed to supporting me through this process. And I am touched and honored that she is . . . but I believe her support, for now, to be best placed as a mirror and an awakening.
Back to the topic at hand - cycling. I've been cycling more regularly in the last three days - a nice change from being too weak to engage in one of my favorite forms of movement (and sole form of transportation). And this morning, I biked to school for class. Prior to getting on my bike, I was in an uncomfortable space. I'm ovulating right now. And that translates into an internal contradiction . . . half of me wants one thing . . . the other half of me wants no part of that one thing. Do I? Don't I? Do I? Don't I? This morning I chose 'do' . . . but didn't get very far before it became 'DON'T'. Unfortunately, once a door has been opened on the emotions and physical memories that are agitated as a result of this . . . there's no way to shut it in time. It just floods over me and I'm left feeling uncomfortable, in pain, and exhausted.
The smartest thing to do, in that moment, would have been to immediately embark on some sort of self-care. Instead, I wrote 8 an email, because she was struggling with something and was asking for support. By the time I finished her email, I felt even more uncomfortable. THEN I embarked on some self-care . . . but too little too late . . . and I had to be out the door for class. Lesson learned. I started my bike ride and realized that the imprint of the sexual abuse and rape . . . the stagnation . . . was literally blocking the energy that I needed in order to cycle. Each turn of the wheel was a massive effort on my part and I wondered how late I was going to be for class.
So in an attempt to lessen the grip that it seemed to have on my soul, I focused on the word 'receive' as I biked. Better . . . but still not great. I changed the wording to 'receive wholeness' . . . not much better. And I shifted again to 'receive wholeness and light where there is pain and discomfort' . . . repeating that over and over and over again as I cycled through the streets, watching for cars. There were moments of relief . . . followed by resurgences of the pain. And so I brought my awareness to my body, and adjusted how I sat on the bike. Took the weight from my palms and transferred it to my core. Dropped my shoulders. And in doing so found a few more minutes of relief. I moved back and forth from this position as I s.l.o.w.l.y cycled (think 2nd gear) . . . and still felt the exhaustion . . . but knew that I needed to continue to move my legs, even in the discomfort. I focused on a steady pace, those words, my posture, and finally realized how shallow my breath was . . . how tight my chest was. And tried to take deeper breaths. Almost impossible.
When I arrived at school, my legs felt like rubber and my chest felt like brick. But I had learned something about my body and myself in cycling. Something that may help to guide me as I walk through this. About persistence . . . and receiving . . . sitting in discomfort . . . and breathing. And of course . . . about priorities. Me first.
So this evening when I came home, I finally found a space within myself to just let go . . . and in the mix of the pain that I felt . . . I also felt this profound love for 8. This raw, pure energy that flooded my soul and called for her . . . and brought me to my knees in tears. My heart continues to breathe her name, her memory, her soul into my world . . . even with so many miles between us . . . and so many obstacles ahead for each of us. There is peace in that . . . and awakening.
Last night I had a dream that I was called to go on pilgrimage to Mexico. And that just as I was about ready to leave, I realized that I didn't have my passport. I was distraught. I wanted to go so badly, and yet I was so afraid that I would get into trouble, or get caught in security. And so I decided it best not to go. But when I returned to my house, I found that all of the people who I knew and trusted and loved - my community - was there, and they were there to meet me for pilgrimage. I looked at one of them, whom I trust deeply, and I shared that I did not have my passport. And he laughed and said that it would be fine. That I would not be in any danger and that I should come regardless. After I few moments I decided to trust him. And away we went. I woke up feeling so incredibly joyous to be with my community and to be embarking on pilgrimage - as though my heart were on fire.
I think this is my answer to the next step for me in regards to healing. My PSM practitioner had mentioned that you can embark on pilgrimage for healing (not just for a boon to find your partner in this lifetime) . . . and had shared that she knew someone with a similar background (re: sexual abuse) who had done this. She felt that perhaps some of my healing may come in connecting with a sacred site. I believe that she might be right. I truly believe that 8 is my partner for this lifetime. And if I was asked today how certain I was, I would say 100%. And while it feels right to answer the call to pilgrimage . . . it does not sit well with my heart to embark on that pilgrimage as a boon. It does, however, feel right to embark on that pilgrimage with the intention of healing from the abuse and rape. Afterall, those are things that have kept me from being able to fully connect with anyone . . . and therefore something that needs to be lifted before I can receive wholeness in that capacity of my life. When my PSM practitiioner spoke to me about this part on the phone, tears formed in my eyes and my heart ached deeply . . . a sign to me that I understand what needs to happen next and why.
I have my reasons for referring to her as 8, of which I will mostly keep private. The only one I will reveal, is that, at this moment, there are 7 women who I have asked to witness this process through the blog. And in time, as things with 8 and I become more defined, and when it feels right, I will share this with her and she will be the 8th woman. But for right now, I need this space to be separate from her eyes. She did tell me that she is committed to supporting me through this process. And I am touched and honored that she is . . . but I believe her support, for now, to be best placed as a mirror and an awakening.
Back to the topic at hand - cycling. I've been cycling more regularly in the last three days - a nice change from being too weak to engage in one of my favorite forms of movement (and sole form of transportation). And this morning, I biked to school for class. Prior to getting on my bike, I was in an uncomfortable space. I'm ovulating right now. And that translates into an internal contradiction . . . half of me wants one thing . . . the other half of me wants no part of that one thing. Do I? Don't I? Do I? Don't I? This morning I chose 'do' . . . but didn't get very far before it became 'DON'T'. Unfortunately, once a door has been opened on the emotions and physical memories that are agitated as a result of this . . . there's no way to shut it in time. It just floods over me and I'm left feeling uncomfortable, in pain, and exhausted.
The smartest thing to do, in that moment, would have been to immediately embark on some sort of self-care. Instead, I wrote 8 an email, because she was struggling with something and was asking for support. By the time I finished her email, I felt even more uncomfortable. THEN I embarked on some self-care . . . but too little too late . . . and I had to be out the door for class. Lesson learned. I started my bike ride and realized that the imprint of the sexual abuse and rape . . . the stagnation . . . was literally blocking the energy that I needed in order to cycle. Each turn of the wheel was a massive effort on my part and I wondered how late I was going to be for class.
So in an attempt to lessen the grip that it seemed to have on my soul, I focused on the word 'receive' as I biked. Better . . . but still not great. I changed the wording to 'receive wholeness' . . . not much better. And I shifted again to 'receive wholeness and light where there is pain and discomfort' . . . repeating that over and over and over again as I cycled through the streets, watching for cars. There were moments of relief . . . followed by resurgences of the pain. And so I brought my awareness to my body, and adjusted how I sat on the bike. Took the weight from my palms and transferred it to my core. Dropped my shoulders. And in doing so found a few more minutes of relief. I moved back and forth from this position as I s.l.o.w.l.y cycled (think 2nd gear) . . . and still felt the exhaustion . . . but knew that I needed to continue to move my legs, even in the discomfort. I focused on a steady pace, those words, my posture, and finally realized how shallow my breath was . . . how tight my chest was. And tried to take deeper breaths. Almost impossible.
When I arrived at school, my legs felt like rubber and my chest felt like brick. But I had learned something about my body and myself in cycling. Something that may help to guide me as I walk through this. About persistence . . . and receiving . . . sitting in discomfort . . . and breathing. And of course . . . about priorities. Me first.
So this evening when I came home, I finally found a space within myself to just let go . . . and in the mix of the pain that I felt . . . I also felt this profound love for 8. This raw, pure energy that flooded my soul and called for her . . . and brought me to my knees in tears. My heart continues to breathe her name, her memory, her soul into my world . . . even with so many miles between us . . . and so many obstacles ahead for each of us. There is peace in that . . . and awakening.
Last night I had a dream that I was called to go on pilgrimage to Mexico. And that just as I was about ready to leave, I realized that I didn't have my passport. I was distraught. I wanted to go so badly, and yet I was so afraid that I would get into trouble, or get caught in security. And so I decided it best not to go. But when I returned to my house, I found that all of the people who I knew and trusted and loved - my community - was there, and they were there to meet me for pilgrimage. I looked at one of them, whom I trust deeply, and I shared that I did not have my passport. And he laughed and said that it would be fine. That I would not be in any danger and that I should come regardless. After I few moments I decided to trust him. And away we went. I woke up feeling so incredibly joyous to be with my community and to be embarking on pilgrimage - as though my heart were on fire.
I think this is my answer to the next step for me in regards to healing. My PSM practitioner had mentioned that you can embark on pilgrimage for healing (not just for a boon to find your partner in this lifetime) . . . and had shared that she knew someone with a similar background (re: sexual abuse) who had done this. She felt that perhaps some of my healing may come in connecting with a sacred site. I believe that she might be right. I truly believe that 8 is my partner for this lifetime. And if I was asked today how certain I was, I would say 100%. And while it feels right to answer the call to pilgrimage . . . it does not sit well with my heart to embark on that pilgrimage as a boon. It does, however, feel right to embark on that pilgrimage with the intention of healing from the abuse and rape. Afterall, those are things that have kept me from being able to fully connect with anyone . . . and therefore something that needs to be lifted before I can receive wholeness in that capacity of my life. When my PSM practitiioner spoke to me about this part on the phone, tears formed in my eyes and my heart ached deeply . . . a sign to me that I understand what needs to happen next and why.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The 4 PM Phone Call
As promised, my Plant Spirit Medicine Practitioner phoned me at 4 PM today. I was okay until around 3:30 PM, and then I began to feel teary and anxious. Which persisted up until the moment the phone rang. I put myself outside . . . in part because my iPhone seems to drop reception in my apartment, and also because I wanted my feet to be in the dirt while I talked.
It started off casually, and slowly we eased our way into the real topic of discussion. She shared with me that she had never had a client who dealt with this particular issue using Plant Spirit Medicine or Huichol Medicine, so she couldn't say from her own personal experiences as a practitioner. She did say, however, that she felt as though this is something that could essentially be considered a blockage. And as such, it would make sense that both of these approaches could possibly help me. She just couldn't give a timeframe for how long it would take, or how many treatments I would need.
She had spoken confidentially with a female Marakame (Huichol Shaman) about my questions to see if she had ever experienced anything like this with a client before. And the Marakame suggested that it was indeed something that the feathers could help. But in the same vein of thought, she could not guarantee how many treatments or how long it would take. But that certainly, it could remove the energetic imprints of it and help me to heal. I happen to know this particular Marakame - not very well - more in passing with some other things that we have crossed paths on. And she is not local to the immediate area, but I could get to her if I needed to. Or have her come to me. It is one option.
My PSM practitioner also shared that she knew someone else on the path of pilgrimage that had a similar background and whom felt called to pilgrimage specifically to heal from that part of her life. She offered to connect with her to see if she would be willing to talk with me, especially since I am also feeling the call to pilgrimage. So, making that connection, and exploring that, is an option as well.
After she opened those two doors for me, I felt it was time to explain the full picture. She did not know my reasons for traveling to see my friend . . . and she did not know that my friend was the one whom I had unraveled this experience with. So I spoke briefly about the history of our friendship, and how my friend had shared her feelings towards me, and also the circumstances that she was currently in that was causing us to be connected without a commitment. I also shared what my heart felt regarding my connection to her - the purity and clarity and peace that we have a lifetime together, not just four days. And then I shared how, on this trip, when I was hiking, I understood why this was unraveling for me now . . . how the intersection of being with someone that feels to be my partner for this lifetime is connected to the purpose work that I am engaging in with the nonprofit, my MT practice, my studies, the grantwriting . . . and how that feeds into my call for pilgrimage. Simply put, I believe that the call to pilgrimage is, in part, a call to heal this very aspect of my soul. And that in doing so, I will powerfully connect into my purpose and into my partner for this lifetime.
No small beans, aye?
It makes complete sense to my heart . . . it was my heart that called for me to go and visit my friend, even though logically it was against my better judgement. I told one of my friends (who was responsible, in the beginning for telling me 'no' everytime I wanted to take this trip) that I felt compelled by a force much larger than me, to step into this and experience it, regardless of what it brought . . . almost as if the gods were asking me to do this for reasons far beyond my own understanding. And so, with my friend's blessing, I did. I would have anyway ;) It was just nicer to have the blessing.
So if that is the case . . . and then this is what has unraveled as a result of it . . . well . . . here it is. And here I am.
I shared with my practitioner that I want to fully heal from this. Regardless of whether the woman that I believe to be my life partner, is in the picture or not. Because this, is about me. This is about wholeness. And I trust that if it is not this woman that is meant to be in my world, then there will be someone else put in place for me. I was meant to have a family and a partner. I feel that strongly as well. I'm ecstatic about my life right now and all that I have, and I know that there is more to be found and experienced, when it is time.
I trust, in this moment, that the path that I need to take in order to heal, will become apparent to me in time. Whether it is one of talk therapy, PSM, acupuncture, or Huichol Medicine. Or perhaps a combination. I do not know. But I'm certain that I will. I'm certain that something will speak to me - be it a plant, a tree, or my heart, and guide me to the appropriate means.
I cried for a little while after the phone call. It is such a relief to have so much support . . . such a good community . . . such powerful means of healing at my disposal. I am truly blessed.
And I am grateful to be who I am in this moment.
Now, it is time for a fire.
It started off casually, and slowly we eased our way into the real topic of discussion. She shared with me that she had never had a client who dealt with this particular issue using Plant Spirit Medicine or Huichol Medicine, so she couldn't say from her own personal experiences as a practitioner. She did say, however, that she felt as though this is something that could essentially be considered a blockage. And as such, it would make sense that both of these approaches could possibly help me. She just couldn't give a timeframe for how long it would take, or how many treatments I would need.
She had spoken confidentially with a female Marakame (Huichol Shaman) about my questions to see if she had ever experienced anything like this with a client before. And the Marakame suggested that it was indeed something that the feathers could help. But in the same vein of thought, she could not guarantee how many treatments or how long it would take. But that certainly, it could remove the energetic imprints of it and help me to heal. I happen to know this particular Marakame - not very well - more in passing with some other things that we have crossed paths on. And she is not local to the immediate area, but I could get to her if I needed to. Or have her come to me. It is one option.
My PSM practitioner also shared that she knew someone else on the path of pilgrimage that had a similar background and whom felt called to pilgrimage specifically to heal from that part of her life. She offered to connect with her to see if she would be willing to talk with me, especially since I am also feeling the call to pilgrimage. So, making that connection, and exploring that, is an option as well.
After she opened those two doors for me, I felt it was time to explain the full picture. She did not know my reasons for traveling to see my friend . . . and she did not know that my friend was the one whom I had unraveled this experience with. So I spoke briefly about the history of our friendship, and how my friend had shared her feelings towards me, and also the circumstances that she was currently in that was causing us to be connected without a commitment. I also shared what my heart felt regarding my connection to her - the purity and clarity and peace that we have a lifetime together, not just four days. And then I shared how, on this trip, when I was hiking, I understood why this was unraveling for me now . . . how the intersection of being with someone that feels to be my partner for this lifetime is connected to the purpose work that I am engaging in with the nonprofit, my MT practice, my studies, the grantwriting . . . and how that feeds into my call for pilgrimage. Simply put, I believe that the call to pilgrimage is, in part, a call to heal this very aspect of my soul. And that in doing so, I will powerfully connect into my purpose and into my partner for this lifetime.
No small beans, aye?
It makes complete sense to my heart . . . it was my heart that called for me to go and visit my friend, even though logically it was against my better judgement. I told one of my friends (who was responsible, in the beginning for telling me 'no' everytime I wanted to take this trip) that I felt compelled by a force much larger than me, to step into this and experience it, regardless of what it brought . . . almost as if the gods were asking me to do this for reasons far beyond my own understanding. And so, with my friend's blessing, I did. I would have anyway ;) It was just nicer to have the blessing.
So if that is the case . . . and then this is what has unraveled as a result of it . . . well . . . here it is. And here I am.
I shared with my practitioner that I want to fully heal from this. Regardless of whether the woman that I believe to be my life partner, is in the picture or not. Because this, is about me. This is about wholeness. And I trust that if it is not this woman that is meant to be in my world, then there will be someone else put in place for me. I was meant to have a family and a partner. I feel that strongly as well. I'm ecstatic about my life right now and all that I have, and I know that there is more to be found and experienced, when it is time.
I trust, in this moment, that the path that I need to take in order to heal, will become apparent to me in time. Whether it is one of talk therapy, PSM, acupuncture, or Huichol Medicine. Or perhaps a combination. I do not know. But I'm certain that I will. I'm certain that something will speak to me - be it a plant, a tree, or my heart, and guide me to the appropriate means.
I cried for a little while after the phone call. It is such a relief to have so much support . . . such a good community . . . such powerful means of healing at my disposal. I am truly blessed.
And I am grateful to be who I am in this moment.
Now, it is time for a fire.
The Root of My Fears
There were two very specific things that came to me when I was asked recently what I was afraid of regarding complete intimacy with another individual. We were entangled physically when she asked me this, and I realized that I felt fear that seemed very out of place considering whom I was with, and how I felt about her.
1) That I would leave my body and never return (this actually brought tears to my eyes to share).
2) That whomever I was with would ultimately leave me and never return.
Regarding #1 . . . I find this ironic. If you ask any of my closest friends about my nature, I'm fairly certain they would say that I'm 'grounded'. Perhaps moreso than most people they know. And the focus of a large majority of my healing rotates around cultivating an even deeper connection to the Earth and to being in my own body. So, with all of this work that I have done . . . and with my friends' perspective, how can I hold this fear? I have honestly NEVER heard this within myself before. Which was part of the reason why it brought tears to my eyes when I first shared it. Is this the reason why I do the things I do?
From the perspective of sexual abuse and rape, it makes sense . . . you disconnect in order to survive the experience. I know that I did. So much so that I can't be IN my body when I am approaching orgasm. I leave. And then I cry. And then I return slowly over the course of the day/night. Because I feel the emptiness of it and I feel how my past surges through my body and leaves me feeling broken. I didn't used to cry . . . I just used to disconnect completely. Which helps me to understand why I struggled so much in the tail end of my last relationship. I wasn't present. I couldn't be. And not only does this impact my own ability to be present to myself . . . but it also impacts my ability to be truly present to the person I'm in bed with. I can't have a heart connection to my partner when I'm in that space . . . and therefore, I'm not truly honoring the sacredness of their soul and their sexuality in that moment. That brings me to tears as well.
Regarding #2 . . . perhaps it is a question of seeking 'wholeness' within myself . . . rather than trying to be certain that I'm whomever I'm with won't ever leave. 'Forever' is unrealistic. Whether it be death, disease, a business trip, or simply paths diverging in different directions . . . separation and heartbreak are part of the equation. There is nothing to deny there. So how do I sit with that? I logically understand the roots . . . family family family.
I've started, in the last few days, adding two new mantras to my list of mantras in the morning - I am whole' . . . and . . . 'I love myself'. The first came to me right before I left to spend time with my soul mate . . . I was meditating and it bubbled up. On truly rough days, I repeat it to myself often. 'Whole' will most likely be the key word for my next black journal - each journal I've written in the past few years has one 'key' word in the beginning . . . almost an intention of sorts for what the time documented in writing will bring to me.
The second was given to me by the Mama Sequoia tree that I visited a few weeks ago. Every time that I have been with her, she has given me a set of instructions. This last time she was VERY chatty . . . and of the several pages of things that she told me, one of them was to say 'I love myself' everyday while looking in the mirror. I don't argue with Mama Sequoia. Ever.
So perhaps those two mantras together will help to heal the rift I feel regarding being abandoned.
And perhaps knowing the root of my fears will allow me to bring light to them and transform them into wholeness instead.
1) That I would leave my body and never return (this actually brought tears to my eyes to share).
2) That whomever I was with would ultimately leave me and never return.
Regarding #1 . . . I find this ironic. If you ask any of my closest friends about my nature, I'm fairly certain they would say that I'm 'grounded'. Perhaps moreso than most people they know. And the focus of a large majority of my healing rotates around cultivating an even deeper connection to the Earth and to being in my own body. So, with all of this work that I have done . . . and with my friends' perspective, how can I hold this fear? I have honestly NEVER heard this within myself before. Which was part of the reason why it brought tears to my eyes when I first shared it. Is this the reason why I do the things I do?
From the perspective of sexual abuse and rape, it makes sense . . . you disconnect in order to survive the experience. I know that I did. So much so that I can't be IN my body when I am approaching orgasm. I leave. And then I cry. And then I return slowly over the course of the day/night. Because I feel the emptiness of it and I feel how my past surges through my body and leaves me feeling broken. I didn't used to cry . . . I just used to disconnect completely. Which helps me to understand why I struggled so much in the tail end of my last relationship. I wasn't present. I couldn't be. And not only does this impact my own ability to be present to myself . . . but it also impacts my ability to be truly present to the person I'm in bed with. I can't have a heart connection to my partner when I'm in that space . . . and therefore, I'm not truly honoring the sacredness of their soul and their sexuality in that moment. That brings me to tears as well.
Regarding #2 . . . perhaps it is a question of seeking 'wholeness' within myself . . . rather than trying to be certain that I'm whomever I'm with won't ever leave. 'Forever' is unrealistic. Whether it be death, disease, a business trip, or simply paths diverging in different directions . . . separation and heartbreak are part of the equation. There is nothing to deny there. So how do I sit with that? I logically understand the roots . . . family family family.
I've started, in the last few days, adding two new mantras to my list of mantras in the morning - I am whole' . . . and . . . 'I love myself'. The first came to me right before I left to spend time with my soul mate . . . I was meditating and it bubbled up. On truly rough days, I repeat it to myself often. 'Whole' will most likely be the key word for my next black journal - each journal I've written in the past few years has one 'key' word in the beginning . . . almost an intention of sorts for what the time documented in writing will bring to me.
The second was given to me by the Mama Sequoia tree that I visited a few weeks ago. Every time that I have been with her, she has given me a set of instructions. This last time she was VERY chatty . . . and of the several pages of things that she told me, one of them was to say 'I love myself' everyday while looking in the mirror. I don't argue with Mama Sequoia. Ever.
So perhaps those two mantras together will help to heal the rift I feel regarding being abandoned.
And perhaps knowing the root of my fears will allow me to bring light to them and transform them into wholeness instead.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
I Have the Tools
I will need to revisit this later when my eyes are not drooping and my leg is not aching . . . but I wanted to take a moment and honor my day today. It started out incredibly rough. I woke up feeling as though something was stuck deep within my solar plexus area and my back ached. I wanted to cry. And I felt ashamed for having started this blog, for asking for support.
So I gave myself a marathon of YouTube silliness in an attempt to lighten my mood . . . it's not often that I do this . . . followed by listening to Aqua VERY loudly (think of the Barbie Girl song and you'll know who this is). And then followed that up with a shower . . . and thankfully after the shower, I did finally cry. Which helped immensely. But I didn't stop there . . . I made myself an absolutely gorgeous breakfast with fresh herbs and delicious vegetables . . . and then spent a little bit of time in the garden planting the sweetpeas and fennel. By the time I left to have lunch with my friend I was feeling more peaceful and hopeful again. And that, my friends, is the difference between now and ten years ago. I have the tools to consistently nurture and support myself while I'm in the midst of incredible discomfort.
It's not fun. It's not easy. And it's not something that I hope to have to do on a daily basis. Because, quite frankly, it's exhausting to be that uncomfortable in my own skin. However, the fact that I have a way to sit in it and move through it . . . is priceless. And, what I find rather hilarious (yes, literally, it makes me chuckle) . . . is that after I've moved through feeling something 'big' like this, the first thought that comes to mind is 'I've survived'. I've spent years terrified of the strength of my own emotions . . . and now at 30, I understand that I will survive them, if I allow myself to have them. How funny.
So the day truly was a good one. And what I would like to remember most, is that this healing, is only a small piece of my life. It is NOT my whole life . . . so even on the darkest of days, I will hold on to the other things that cause me joy. Even if I don't feel that joy right away. In fact, most likely, I will go back to an old CBT tool . . . making a thorough list of everything that I can do when I'm in a bad space, to help work myself out of it. And then engage that list when things look dire.
I have gratitude for the opportunity to experience joy. And I have gratitude for each of you. Your emails of support today have made a difference in my heart . . . these words, in particular, were touching:
So I gave myself a marathon of YouTube silliness in an attempt to lighten my mood . . . it's not often that I do this . . . followed by listening to Aqua VERY loudly (think of the Barbie Girl song and you'll know who this is). And then followed that up with a shower . . . and thankfully after the shower, I did finally cry. Which helped immensely. But I didn't stop there . . . I made myself an absolutely gorgeous breakfast with fresh herbs and delicious vegetables . . . and then spent a little bit of time in the garden planting the sweetpeas and fennel. By the time I left to have lunch with my friend I was feeling more peaceful and hopeful again. And that, my friends, is the difference between now and ten years ago. I have the tools to consistently nurture and support myself while I'm in the midst of incredible discomfort.
It's not fun. It's not easy. And it's not something that I hope to have to do on a daily basis. Because, quite frankly, it's exhausting to be that uncomfortable in my own skin. However, the fact that I have a way to sit in it and move through it . . . is priceless. And, what I find rather hilarious (yes, literally, it makes me chuckle) . . . is that after I've moved through feeling something 'big' like this, the first thought that comes to mind is 'I've survived'. I've spent years terrified of the strength of my own emotions . . . and now at 30, I understand that I will survive them, if I allow myself to have them. How funny.
So the day truly was a good one. And what I would like to remember most, is that this healing, is only a small piece of my life. It is NOT my whole life . . . so even on the darkest of days, I will hold on to the other things that cause me joy. Even if I don't feel that joy right away. In fact, most likely, I will go back to an old CBT tool . . . making a thorough list of everything that I can do when I'm in a bad space, to help work myself out of it. And then engage that list when things look dire.
I have gratitude for the opportunity to experience joy. And I have gratitude for each of you. Your emails of support today have made a difference in my heart . . . these words, in particular, were touching:
Sitting with it is hard. Sitting with it in front of loved ones is harder. But safer at the same time. We are all holding you...
And So It Begins (with anger) . . .
At 4:30 this morning, my cat knocked something over in the apartment, waking me from a rather restless slumber. Generally, this is a minor annoyance . . . this morning it was cause for me to leap out of bed and scream at her. Not my finest moment, I know. Thankfully, she's a cat and forgives easily, already curled up in bed beside me as I write this.
Anger is an emotion that I have a difficult time with. I grew up in a household of incredibly angry individuals and always vowed that I would not be like them. Ironically, they did not allow me to express my anger to them. So I spent years suppressing that emotion, and it has taken me years to learn how to release it in a positive manner. It was the source of an incredibly deep depression in my early 20's that included panic attacks and self injury. These days I handle this particular emotion much better (minus rare occasions like tonight), as I've learned that writing, movement, and meditation can bring me through the worst of it. That, however, doesn't mean that I enjoy the feeling of knots in my stomach, or the look that my cat gives me when I yell at her for, well . . . being a cat.
Obviously the root of this anger is not from things going 'bump' in the night . . . and as I turned on my phone to see what time it was, I realized part of the source of this anger. Her. Her, who I've connected with so deeply. Her, who has mirrored the residue of my past. Her, who said that unless I learn how to let go of this, I will never be able to be fully present. I will never have the space to receive the wholeness that comes with knowing someone so intimately. Her, who is a survivor. Her, whom I love and whose picture I see every time I turn on my phone.
And in this moment, I am grateful that she is so far away. Because to feel this, with her in the same room as me, in the same bed, would be an unbearable conflict. Small blessings.
Logically, I understand that it's not really about her either. It's about the anger at having to deal with *this* in my life now. Having to deal with it at all, really. I don't want to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't want to go to bed at night feeling as though a toxic waste bin has been dumped within the confines of my own flesh. I don't want to lie in a bathtub, feeling tears that are stuck, hardly able to breathe. It has taken me so many years to re-inhabit my body . . . the thought of being flooded . . . of drowning in this mess of emotions and events is not appealing.
And yet, I know that I have to . . . and will. I even understand why. Why now. Why this. (That I will save for a later blog,)
It doesn't make my heart any less tired.
In the meantime, I have a phone call scheduled with my Plant Spirit Medicine Practitioner on Friday afternoon (4 PM), to discuss 'options' as to how work through this. I've asked for her professional opinion . . . in part because it was recommended that I go to talk therapy. In all honesty, that doesn't appeal to me, but I want to make certain that I'm not just saying that out of avoidance. She will be honest with me. I'm certain.
Anger is an emotion that I have a difficult time with. I grew up in a household of incredibly angry individuals and always vowed that I would not be like them. Ironically, they did not allow me to express my anger to them. So I spent years suppressing that emotion, and it has taken me years to learn how to release it in a positive manner. It was the source of an incredibly deep depression in my early 20's that included panic attacks and self injury. These days I handle this particular emotion much better (minus rare occasions like tonight), as I've learned that writing, movement, and meditation can bring me through the worst of it. That, however, doesn't mean that I enjoy the feeling of knots in my stomach, or the look that my cat gives me when I yell at her for, well . . . being a cat.
Obviously the root of this anger is not from things going 'bump' in the night . . . and as I turned on my phone to see what time it was, I realized part of the source of this anger. Her. Her, who I've connected with so deeply. Her, who has mirrored the residue of my past. Her, who said that unless I learn how to let go of this, I will never be able to be fully present. I will never have the space to receive the wholeness that comes with knowing someone so intimately. Her, who is a survivor. Her, whom I love and whose picture I see every time I turn on my phone.
And in this moment, I am grateful that she is so far away. Because to feel this, with her in the same room as me, in the same bed, would be an unbearable conflict. Small blessings.
Logically, I understand that it's not really about her either. It's about the anger at having to deal with *this* in my life now. Having to deal with it at all, really. I don't want to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't want to go to bed at night feeling as though a toxic waste bin has been dumped within the confines of my own flesh. I don't want to lie in a bathtub, feeling tears that are stuck, hardly able to breathe. It has taken me so many years to re-inhabit my body . . . the thought of being flooded . . . of drowning in this mess of emotions and events is not appealing.
And yet, I know that I have to . . . and will. I even understand why. Why now. Why this. (That I will save for a later blog,)
It doesn't make my heart any less tired.
In the meantime, I have a phone call scheduled with my Plant Spirit Medicine Practitioner on Friday afternoon (4 PM), to discuss 'options' as to how work through this. I've asked for her professional opinion . . . in part because it was recommended that I go to talk therapy. In all honesty, that doesn't appeal to me, but I want to make certain that I'm not just saying that out of avoidance. She will be honest with me. I'm certain.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
When We Feel Safe In Ourselves
Walk and touch peace every moment. Walk and touch happiness every moment. Each step brings a fresh breeze. Each step makes a flower bloom. Kiss the Earth with your feet. Bring the Earth your love and happiness. The Earth will be safe when we feel safe in ourselves. - Thich Nhat Hanh
A profound quote that was shared with me earlier this week . . . it resonated because of my own deep connection to the Earth . . .
I've recently reconnected with a friend . . . dare I say, soul mate. After spending several days with her, which included intimacy beyond any which I've ever known, I realized that I was bringing pain and sadness from my past to bed with us. As she is a survivor of sexual abuse as well, she was able to mirror this for me . . . and in one of the most beautiful moments I have ever known, was able to accept me in that moment of pain and grief, and honor me on all levels.
That didn't make it easy . . . rather it made me more aware. I am healthier than I ever have been, in so many capacities. I have a life that I embrace so deeply and voraciously. I have friends and a community that have supported me in each step that I've taken. And I'm doing my purpose work.
This - the sexual abuse and the rape - they are the odd men out. Literally.
It is time for me to do the work. It is time for me walk into it, arms open wide, and let it go. It is time for me to feel safe within myself, completely.
I am ready. I am whole. I love myself.
This - the sexual abuse and the rape - they are the odd men out. Literally.
It is time for me to do the work. It is time for me walk into it, arms open wide, and let it go. It is time for me to feel safe within myself, completely.
I am ready. I am whole. I love myself.
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