A dream . . .
In my dream, I was in the men's bathroom. I had just stepped into a stall that was rather spacious. The door wouldn't quite close correctly, so I was holding on to it with one hand. I was planning on living there it seemed. And had apparently already spent much time there, as I saw some of my belongings in the stall. A man passed by and said something to me. Not wanting to disclose my female identity, I deepened my voice and grunted something in response. (If you ever want a laugh, ask me to do this in real life.) I peered up and over the top of the stall, and found someone that I knew looking right at me. Much like Wilson on Home Improvement, I left most of my face shielded behind the stall door, with only my eyes, forehead and top of my head exposed. Certainly that would not disclose my gender. Suddenly the door began to swing open, and I had to grab it quickly to stop it. The person that I knew looked right at me and asked me what I was doing in the men's bathroom. And I quickly ducked and hid behind the stall door, hoping she would leave. She stepped closer and asked again. When I realized that she wasn't going to leave, I mumbled that there was more space in the men's room than there was in the women's. That it was more comfortable to me. And then I peered over the edge of the stall and made her promise that she would never tell anyone that I was living there, or that I was female.
A wish . . .
As I was watching the National Parks DVD this evening, a narrator was speaking of how our experiences in these parks become something that we pass on to our children in the future . . . a heritage of memories that we create in these natural worlds. Perhaps I am simply overly tired because I've been picking myself up from the ground for the past month . . . or perhaps my bike ride this morning to the ocean, where I decided that I was married to the ocean, the trees, and the earth has me overly emotional . . . but there was a gut-wrenching turn of my stomach when I heard the narrator say this . . . and tears welled up in my eyes. If there is one thing I would lay down my life for, it would be for this Earth. And if there was one thing that would make me want to have children . . . it would be to share this Earth in the way that I know it with them. I recently have found myself wondering if in the process of healing, I will feel the maternal clock ticking that so many of my friends do. Until now I have remained rather immune to it.
A miracle . . .
That's what I need right now as I turn myself towards the unknown and let go of things that no longer serve me . . . people who do not support me . . . and labels that only serve to contain me. I have to admit to feeling very isolated right now . . . and uncertain as to how this will unfold. Especially as my body has turned up its sensitivity to food right now . . . anything outside of my modified Body Ecology diet has me feeling as though I'm losing my mind. Interesting twist considering that right about now is when I want comfort food the most.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Here in This Moment is Who I Am
There has been a self-imposed silence on my part recently. I deactivated my Facebook account, took a break from blogging and even took some time away from personal emails. I felt the need to sit with myself . . . quietly . . . and listen to what my body was speaking to me. Away from the chatter that can so easily distract me . . . away from the eyes and ears of the rest of the world . . . I wanted to check in with myself.
In the past ten days, much has occurred . . .
- I submitted my application for a boon/pilgrimage in the Huichol tradition with the intention of using it as an opportunity to heal from the sexual abuse and rape.
- I found the graduate school that I want to attend.
- I was invited to become more involved in the inner workings of the nonprofit organization that I contract with.
- I held the first Women's Circle.
- I closed the door on my friendship with 8, and requested that she contact me when she was in a healthier place. This pains me and yet, I have faith that is what is best for both of us, for now.
Strangely, or not so strangely . . . after I submitted my application for the boon, everything in my life seemed to quiet down and doors began to open. The faith that I held and the step that I took, with the love and support of my community, seems to have brought me more deeply into my life and into myself.
Today, I spent my Thanksgiving Day cycling along the ocean, meditating in the water, and giving gratitude for all that has been provided for me in my life. I also spent a significant portion of the day repeating the title of this blog to myself. It is a new mantra for me - one that came to me after my PSM treatment a week ago. What it seems to do, is anchor me to the core of my body, forcing me to remain present to what I feel in my heart and in my physical self, rather than to what I'm thinking or fearing.
As I bike, I silently repeat, "Here in this moment, is who I am." As I walk. As I lie in bed. As I meditate. But mostly, as I bike. And with that repetition, comes an awareness of the movement of my hip flexors, my piriformis muscles, my quads, my hamstrings, my abdomen, my core . . . an awareness that grounds me within myself . . . that allows me the opportunity to move through the numbness that is usually present there. A movement that allows me to safely explore what it is like to be alive and aware in that region of my body.
It has been a profound experience . . . one that has already helped me to move through some feelings of anger, has brought me to tears, has caused feelings of awe in the awakening of that energy, and has shown me once again, the tremendous healing powers of intention when linked with action, and the incredible intelligence of the human body.
For that, I have gratitude.
In the past ten days, much has occurred . . .
- I submitted my application for a boon/pilgrimage in the Huichol tradition with the intention of using it as an opportunity to heal from the sexual abuse and rape.
- I found the graduate school that I want to attend.
- I was invited to become more involved in the inner workings of the nonprofit organization that I contract with.
- I held the first Women's Circle.
- I closed the door on my friendship with 8, and requested that she contact me when she was in a healthier place. This pains me and yet, I have faith that is what is best for both of us, for now.
Strangely, or not so strangely . . . after I submitted my application for the boon, everything in my life seemed to quiet down and doors began to open. The faith that I held and the step that I took, with the love and support of my community, seems to have brought me more deeply into my life and into myself.
Today, I spent my Thanksgiving Day cycling along the ocean, meditating in the water, and giving gratitude for all that has been provided for me in my life. I also spent a significant portion of the day repeating the title of this blog to myself. It is a new mantra for me - one that came to me after my PSM treatment a week ago. What it seems to do, is anchor me to the core of my body, forcing me to remain present to what I feel in my heart and in my physical self, rather than to what I'm thinking or fearing.
As I bike, I silently repeat, "Here in this moment, is who I am." As I walk. As I lie in bed. As I meditate. But mostly, as I bike. And with that repetition, comes an awareness of the movement of my hip flexors, my piriformis muscles, my quads, my hamstrings, my abdomen, my core . . . an awareness that grounds me within myself . . . that allows me the opportunity to move through the numbness that is usually present there. A movement that allows me to safely explore what it is like to be alive and aware in that region of my body.
It has been a profound experience . . . one that has already helped me to move through some feelings of anger, has brought me to tears, has caused feelings of awe in the awakening of that energy, and has shown me once again, the tremendous healing powers of intention when linked with action, and the incredible intelligence of the human body.
For that, I have gratitude.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Choices
I rode through another crash into despair yesterday evening.
And today, I'm making a choice.
I can either choose to see what's happening as a pathology. And I can seek Western medicine options including drugs and talk therapy because I 'think' I'm crazy. Or I can choose to see this as a healing crisis that is a sign that I'm on the verge of approaching the root of so much pain in my lifetime. And I can listen to what my body has to say, what it feels, and respond accordingly.
With the first approach, I'm broken. For a lifetime. With the first approach, I'm a victim. With the first approach, I am powerless.
With the second approach, I'm approaching wholeness. For a lifetime. With the second approach, I'm making a choice to ride this out. To trust the work that I have done specifically in the past 5 years, and to trust the professionals who have guided me through that. With the second approach, I am empowered.
I have had professionals tell me that I was clearly misdiagnosed in my early 20's. After I have shared e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. with them. No holds barred. Professionals who specialize in mental health disorders. I have lived my life free of western medication and treatments for seven years. I have transformed my diet and my lifestyle to be a complete 180 from what it was before. I have constantly stepped forward and followed my heart, and each time I have, I have found myself happier . . . and my world has opened wider. People look to me for guidance. They listen to what I have to say. They respect me. They are inspired by me. People that I care for and love . . . whom I respect . . . whom I look to for guidance . . . and whom inspire me.
And I am sitting on the cusp of a path that simultaneously terrifies me AND excites me.
The only 'crazy' in all of this, is that I'm allowing my head to have control here. Yes, it's a good head. It serves it's purpose and helps me to understand the bigger picture. It keeps my heart safe.
This is the pattern for me. My heart spills wide open as a teenager. I'm raped and sexually abused at a time in my life when I am forming my identity. When I'm taking my first steps into a community. When my skills and talents are just beginning to shine through and the possibilities look endless.
And I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on . . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. But I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I go to a prestigious arts college. And my heart spills wide open again. There's too much pain, and no community to support it. I'm labeled. I'm diagnosed. I'm put in a box. And again, I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I retreat. i don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on. . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. I do it out of spite to some degree. My heart refuses to give up on what it knows 'can be'.
I find a community of women who support me. My heart spills open again. I fall in love. And then I become pregnant. And then I terminate the pregnancy. For reasons that I can't even speak to or emotions that I can't even experience until three years later. And I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. But these women won't let me disappear. And they keep me in the sun. They support my determination. They nurture me.
And slowly, things begin to unfold . . . I begin to find a community . . . I begin to understand what some of my gifts are . . . I begin to step into the light again. And when I do, I'm given recognition beyond anything that I would have dared to imagine.
I fall in love. My heart breaks open. And the work that I'm doing . . . falls apart . . . in my eyes. In hindsight I understand it more clearly. The how, the why, the reasons . . . and what I gained as a result. It put my foot in the door in a big way. But at the time, I see only failure.
I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. And not only do these women keep me in the sun, but another group of women step into the picture. And they teach me how to listen to my heart. How to walk through the pain. How to love myself.
And in that process, I begin to step forward again. I make a decision about graduate school that seems crazy. Yet it is supported by the people who love me and respect me. So I trust my heart. I trust the signs that I'm given. I trust the women around me. And my head supports the vision. And I move forward.
Here I am, three years later with so many beautiful, supportive, loving, amazing, inspiring individuals in my life, that I'm never at a loss for someone to say 'I love you' to. And in these three years, I've learned how to listen to my body. And I've learned how to listen to the natural world around me. And I've learned how to live with my heart wide open. Even when it causes pain.
I have a choice. I can allow what happened to me when I was a teenager put a glass ceiling on my life, assign a value to my worth, and put me in a box. OR I can choose to plunge into what is in front of me, and have faith that I have everything that I need in order to break through that glass ceiling, assign my own value to myself, and live, free.
He didn't come to me in this lifetime so that I could give up. He came with a message for me. He woke me up and guided me here to this moment. To this community. To this path. He came to me, so that I could be free.
So, yes, this is painful. Exhausting. Overwhelming. Yes, I can't see where I'm stepping. But every cell in my body calls to take that step. My heart hasn't allowed me to rest in weeks. And the only times that I have received peace, are times when I'm present in my body. When I've allowed my heart to take the reins.
When I've had faith.
For the people that I love, I am a pit bull. I will go to any length to make certain that they have what they need in order to heal, be happy, and live their lives fully. I have done this again and again and again for my closest friends and for people that I didn't even know, but whose pain I could relate to. I did it when the administration of my graduate school program made changes that were, at best, misguided.
And here, in this moment, I am making that same commitment to myself. Fuck the labels. Fuck the boxes. Fuck what was pushed upon me as a teenager.
I am healthy. I am whole. I trust my heart.
I will stand in the high tide. I am faith.
And today, I'm making a choice.
I can either choose to see what's happening as a pathology. And I can seek Western medicine options including drugs and talk therapy because I 'think' I'm crazy. Or I can choose to see this as a healing crisis that is a sign that I'm on the verge of approaching the root of so much pain in my lifetime. And I can listen to what my body has to say, what it feels, and respond accordingly.
With the first approach, I'm broken. For a lifetime. With the first approach, I'm a victim. With the first approach, I am powerless.
With the second approach, I'm approaching wholeness. For a lifetime. With the second approach, I'm making a choice to ride this out. To trust the work that I have done specifically in the past 5 years, and to trust the professionals who have guided me through that. With the second approach, I am empowered.
I have had professionals tell me that I was clearly misdiagnosed in my early 20's. After I have shared e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. with them. No holds barred. Professionals who specialize in mental health disorders. I have lived my life free of western medication and treatments for seven years. I have transformed my diet and my lifestyle to be a complete 180 from what it was before. I have constantly stepped forward and followed my heart, and each time I have, I have found myself happier . . . and my world has opened wider. People look to me for guidance. They listen to what I have to say. They respect me. They are inspired by me. People that I care for and love . . . whom I respect . . . whom I look to for guidance . . . and whom inspire me.
And I am sitting on the cusp of a path that simultaneously terrifies me AND excites me.
The only 'crazy' in all of this, is that I'm allowing my head to have control here. Yes, it's a good head. It serves it's purpose and helps me to understand the bigger picture. It keeps my heart safe.
This is the pattern for me. My heart spills wide open as a teenager. I'm raped and sexually abused at a time in my life when I am forming my identity. When I'm taking my first steps into a community. When my skills and talents are just beginning to shine through and the possibilities look endless.
And I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on . . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. But I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I go to a prestigious arts college. And my heart spills wide open again. There's too much pain, and no community to support it. I'm labeled. I'm diagnosed. I'm put in a box. And again, I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I retreat. i don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. I still persist in being recognized for my gifts. I still push on. . . because I know that it is the ONLY way out of the pain. I do it out of spite to some degree. My heart refuses to give up on what it knows 'can be'.
I find a community of women who support me. My heart spills open again. I fall in love. And then I become pregnant. And then I terminate the pregnancy. For reasons that I can't even speak to or emotions that I can't even experience until three years later. And I give the reins to my head. To keep me safe.
I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. But these women won't let me disappear. And they keep me in the sun. They support my determination. They nurture me.
And slowly, things begin to unfold . . . I begin to find a community . . . I begin to understand what some of my gifts are . . . I begin to step into the light again. And when I do, I'm given recognition beyond anything that I would have dared to imagine.
I fall in love. My heart breaks open. And the work that I'm doing . . . falls apart . . . in my eyes. In hindsight I understand it more clearly. The how, the why, the reasons . . . and what I gained as a result. It put my foot in the door in a big way. But at the time, I see only failure.
I retreat. I don't give up. But I retreat. I hide. I hurt. I lock down. And not only do these women keep me in the sun, but another group of women step into the picture. And they teach me how to listen to my heart. How to walk through the pain. How to love myself.
And in that process, I begin to step forward again. I make a decision about graduate school that seems crazy. Yet it is supported by the people who love me and respect me. So I trust my heart. I trust the signs that I'm given. I trust the women around me. And my head supports the vision. And I move forward.
Here I am, three years later with so many beautiful, supportive, loving, amazing, inspiring individuals in my life, that I'm never at a loss for someone to say 'I love you' to. And in these three years, I've learned how to listen to my body. And I've learned how to listen to the natural world around me. And I've learned how to live with my heart wide open. Even when it causes pain.
I have a choice. I can allow what happened to me when I was a teenager put a glass ceiling on my life, assign a value to my worth, and put me in a box. OR I can choose to plunge into what is in front of me, and have faith that I have everything that I need in order to break through that glass ceiling, assign my own value to myself, and live, free.
He didn't come to me in this lifetime so that I could give up. He came with a message for me. He woke me up and guided me here to this moment. To this community. To this path. He came to me, so that I could be free.
So, yes, this is painful. Exhausting. Overwhelming. Yes, I can't see where I'm stepping. But every cell in my body calls to take that step. My heart hasn't allowed me to rest in weeks. And the only times that I have received peace, are times when I'm present in my body. When I've allowed my heart to take the reins.
When I've had faith.
For the people that I love, I am a pit bull. I will go to any length to make certain that they have what they need in order to heal, be happy, and live their lives fully. I have done this again and again and again for my closest friends and for people that I didn't even know, but whose pain I could relate to. I did it when the administration of my graduate school program made changes that were, at best, misguided.
And here, in this moment, I am making that same commitment to myself. Fuck the labels. Fuck the boxes. Fuck what was pushed upon me as a teenager.
I am healthy. I am whole. I trust my heart.
I will stand in the high tide. I am faith.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Fried . . .
Like an egg. Three hours of sleep. And a constant ache in my heart. I texted my acupuncturist this morning to see if she could squeeze me in on Tuesday. If it's an emergency, she replied. Because she's going out of town. I can't decide what qualifies as an emergency. Or if this is one.
I'm ricocheting around again emotionally, energetically, mentally, and physically. And there is a part of me that would like to believe that I just have to find the right combination of things to implement in my life . . . and that will pull me down again . . . back into my body . . . back into my feet. Everything that I know how to do, is once again . . . not working.
I will admit here, in a rather coded way, that I do know one thing that I believe will work. If I do it. And I'm struggling in putting my faith into it. But I also believe that my hesitance is part of the reason why I'm ricocheting so much. And that anything that I do leading up to that actual moment of decision and action . . . is only a temporary bandaid. I could be wrong. Very wrong though.
Oh would you listen to my head talking again. And again. And again.
I had breakfast with two beautiful women today . . . that temporarily lifted my spirits. Good medicine for the soul. But by the time I was halfway home . . . I felt them plunging. Beyond clean up my apartment today and sell some books, I really don't know that I'm going to do anything. I'm exhausted. Though I need to. I know.
I would just much rather hide under the blankets. Last night before I went to sleep, I rolled some mugwort into a ball and asked for guidance on what it was that I needed to know in order to walk through this aspect of my life, with 8. I believe that answer came in the form of what happened last night. Perspective on the situation and clarity in my own feelings.
One of the women I had breakfast with today, said that she read somewhere that by the time we get dressed in the morning, we've already lost 80% of our energy to everything that we're plugged into - technology, family, friends, work, etc. Which explains why we're all so exhausted . . . and it made me think about what my biggest drains are on my energy - the abuse and the rape. Choosing to release them will put me in a new energetic space.
Or I could just shave my head. That might help too.
I'm ricocheting around again emotionally, energetically, mentally, and physically. And there is a part of me that would like to believe that I just have to find the right combination of things to implement in my life . . . and that will pull me down again . . . back into my body . . . back into my feet. Everything that I know how to do, is once again . . . not working.
I will admit here, in a rather coded way, that I do know one thing that I believe will work. If I do it. And I'm struggling in putting my faith into it. But I also believe that my hesitance is part of the reason why I'm ricocheting so much. And that anything that I do leading up to that actual moment of decision and action . . . is only a temporary bandaid. I could be wrong. Very wrong though.
Oh would you listen to my head talking again. And again. And again.
I had breakfast with two beautiful women today . . . that temporarily lifted my spirits. Good medicine for the soul. But by the time I was halfway home . . . I felt them plunging. Beyond clean up my apartment today and sell some books, I really don't know that I'm going to do anything. I'm exhausted. Though I need to. I know.
I would just much rather hide under the blankets. Last night before I went to sleep, I rolled some mugwort into a ball and asked for guidance on what it was that I needed to know in order to walk through this aspect of my life, with 8. I believe that answer came in the form of what happened last night. Perspective on the situation and clarity in my own feelings.
One of the women I had breakfast with today, said that she read somewhere that by the time we get dressed in the morning, we've already lost 80% of our energy to everything that we're plugged into - technology, family, friends, work, etc. Which explains why we're all so exhausted . . . and it made me think about what my biggest drains are on my energy - the abuse and the rape. Choosing to release them will put me in a new energetic space.
Or I could just shave my head. That might help too.
Fake It Until You Make It
I woke up at 12 AM. Wide awake. Concerned about 8. Our lack of communication. The next few days that are so big for her. My heart trusts that she is okay. My head has been having a field day.
Which is why, this isn't really about her. Our lack of communication. Or the next few days that are so big for her. This is about me.
I was watching Grey's Anatomy . . . part of my insomnia routine. And at some point for a reason that I can't quite place, I started sobbing. This particular episode dealt with a lot of pediatric cases. And it also dealt with relationships.
I don't know how to tie all of the things in my heart together, so I'll just list them.
- There are more men in my world these days. More men slowly becoming friendlier towards me . . . some of whom are showing interest in something beyond friendship. Of course there also seems to be more men in my world who are being completely inappropriate as well. But I'm trying not to put energy towards those random strangers who feel it necessary to be lewd. I know that it's inevitable that I open my heart towards these men in my life - whether as friendship or dating. This is not a bad thing. I need to do this in order to heal. I feel that in my body. It's not that it's going to dictate who I spend a lifetime with in the future . . . at least not in the sense of all of this work leading to me suddenly being 'straight'. I do love women and men equally. Without filtering for 'parts'. I always have. Long before I was ever abused or raped. Long before I ever had the abortion. The reality is, that it is much harder for me to trust men. And since I've moved here, I've been blessed with good men, who are slowly teaching me how to trust. But I still have a long way to go. And I sense, in all honesty, that there will be one man in all of it, who I end up in a relationship with. I don't know who. But my heart tells me that something needs to be healed . . . that can only be healed in the context of a relationship. I could be wrong. And I feel the resistance in my body to what my heart says . . . which only serves as evidence for what is being said.
- Earlier tonight I had a phone conversation with a good friend . . . who is currently at a crossroads in her own life. She's stuck. In all senses. And I'm trying to help her in the only way that I can right now - by holding space for her to build her practice. By handing over what I know. By holding her accountable. By pointing out the inconsistencies in a loving way. And by sharing my community with her. She's a resilient woman. And a beautiful one. And she talked tonight about how she wants it all. Not just her practice. But a man and a family too. Her last two boyfriends have been lost souls, stuck in their own issues. And so I said to her, 'get yourself unstuck, so that you can attract someone else who is also unstuck. Live your passion, so that you can attract someone else who can live their passion.' . . . and later . . . found myself wondering about the set of people that I have been attracting this year, including 8. Obviously, it's about boundaries. That's a no-brainer. But it also seems to be about being unavailable. Being these wonderful, exciting, amazing people . . . who are completely unavailable. Look in the mirror my friend. You are what you attract. Regardless of how the 'unavailability' occurs. I am unavailable. I have so much energy tied around the rape, the abuse, and yes, the termination. 8 is the closest I have come to being able to look at that honestly . . . to see it fully . . . and to share it with someone.
- I love 8. I have no doubts regarding that. And just like I see these other things in my life that will be created - the nonprofit, my MT practice, PSM, Marakame, grad school for Public Health . . . I see her and her children in my future as well. My heart sees all of this. I have a starting point. And I have a milestone marker. I know very very very little of the steps in between. And so I'm being asked to have faith. To live . . . in faith. To be . . . faith. And in the process of faith, 8 is a symbol to me. One that I cannot become attached to or have expectations of . . . like Raihan in some regards because I could do neither of those things with him. But I need to also acknowledge that she is a symbol to me . . . of my own journey towards healing . . . of faith . . . of what I want in this lifetime madly and deeply - a partner and a family.
- Speaking of madly and deeply . . . that would be an apt description for how I sobbed this morning . . . when I realized how incredibly lonely I am. Not lonely for community or friends. I have both. And gratitude for both. Lonely . . . so deeply lonely . . . so incredibly . . . amazingly . . . heartwrenchingly lonely for a partner. For one person in this world that I can connect with on all levels. The intensity of these emotions surprised me. Profoundly. I have a beautiful life. And I have always said that I would be celebrate my life each day regardless of whether I was single or in a relationship. I do. I have experienced so many things as a result of being single and being able to live my life as I pleased. I have grown in so many capacities. I'm healthy on so many levels. There is no regret for any of this. And yet there is a profound loneliness that sits at the root of all of this. All it took was for Arizona to say 'I love you' to her girlfriend tonight and I was a complete mess. Not because I can't say that to 8. I will, eventually. When the time is right for both her and I. I was a mess because I want to say it. I want to be able to say it. I want to have the opportunity TO say it. And to hear it in response. I tell my friends all of the time that I love them. I think it takes half of them by surprise since it's a phrase that you don't usually say unless you're dating someone. But there is truth when I say it. I do love them. And so I say it. But saying it a million times to your friends . . . does not equal saying it one time to the person you want to spend your life with.
- Family. And for this one . . . I actually have to stop and focus on breathing . . . because even just thinking about writing about it . . . brings tears to my eyes. I want family. It's not that I feel the need to bear children. It's that I want children in my life. Children who are going to look to me every day for stability and support and unconditional love. Children who are going to press all of my buttons . . . and who are going to make me laugh . . . and who are going to make me cry . . . and who are going to make my heart sing. My heart beats fiercely for that. I don't know that I would be able to peacefully accept a lifetime without children. Honestly.
- I am exhausted. I've been supporting the people in my life as fully as I can. And I've been doing an exceptional job at taking care of myself . . . well . . . perhaps exceptional is a strong word . . . there is always room for improvement. The reality is, I've been keeping a good balance and not overextending. But here, in this moment, I am exhausted. I need some support. I need someone to hug me and tell me that it's going to be okay. Really okay. I might even need a shoulder to cry on. I don't know. And I get that all that I have to do is ask. But right now I'm too tired to ask. It's easier just to get on my bike and go for a ride. Or pull out my yoga mat and breathe. But it's not the same.
The reality is . . . I'm terrified. All logic aside . . . stepping away from the analysis . . . dropping the synchronicity of everything that is unfolding . . . just looking within . . . I am terrified to do this. I am terrified to walk through this. I am terrified to feel this. I am terrified to sit in it. It feels ominous - as though it's going to gut me. And when I look at the responsibilities that I have on my plate . . . there is no space for that. There's not even space for this - being awake in the middle of the night. And yet there has to be . . . because it has already started. Nothing short of cutting 8 out of my life and closing off ALL of the opportunities in my life . . . will halt this . . . and even that would only be temporary.
I actually did think tonight of shutting the door on 8. Terrible, I know. But it's because of what she represents to me. Not because of who she is. Somewhere deep inside I was caught in the transitions of her life . . . as a way to avoid dealing with this particular transition in my life. I think Mama Sequoia knew this . . . and I believe that is why she asked me to bring 8 to her . . . and why she gave me the homework that she did . . . so that they could forge a connection that would ultimately help both of us. I think she knew I was getting stuck on this. And why. Being in that space would serve neither of us. So she stepped in.
My acupuncturist once said to me, that in each opportunity for healing, there is always a choice to be made. You can always choose to sidestep it . . . for now . . . and that is an honorable decision if it's what you need in this moment. If you feel as though you don't have what you need in order to survive . . . and in order to live it fully. However, in choosing this, you have to recognize that this lesson will circle back around to you, at another time, in another way. And you will be given the same choice again. Some people spend a lifetime refusing to choose the opportunity to heal.
Here, in this moment, I am choosing. And even as I type that, I feel my entire body resisting.
I want to live fully. These lessons that have been circling around me for years . . . I choose to learn them now. Because I see where I am in this moment. And I see what I want for my future. And I have faith that I will be guided from here to there.
I posted this on 8's FB wall tonight . . . I need to be reminded as well . . .
Which is why, this isn't really about her. Our lack of communication. Or the next few days that are so big for her. This is about me.
I was watching Grey's Anatomy . . . part of my insomnia routine. And at some point for a reason that I can't quite place, I started sobbing. This particular episode dealt with a lot of pediatric cases. And it also dealt with relationships.
I don't know how to tie all of the things in my heart together, so I'll just list them.
- There are more men in my world these days. More men slowly becoming friendlier towards me . . . some of whom are showing interest in something beyond friendship. Of course there also seems to be more men in my world who are being completely inappropriate as well. But I'm trying not to put energy towards those random strangers who feel it necessary to be lewd. I know that it's inevitable that I open my heart towards these men in my life - whether as friendship or dating. This is not a bad thing. I need to do this in order to heal. I feel that in my body. It's not that it's going to dictate who I spend a lifetime with in the future . . . at least not in the sense of all of this work leading to me suddenly being 'straight'. I do love women and men equally. Without filtering for 'parts'. I always have. Long before I was ever abused or raped. Long before I ever had the abortion. The reality is, that it is much harder for me to trust men. And since I've moved here, I've been blessed with good men, who are slowly teaching me how to trust. But I still have a long way to go. And I sense, in all honesty, that there will be one man in all of it, who I end up in a relationship with. I don't know who. But my heart tells me that something needs to be healed . . . that can only be healed in the context of a relationship. I could be wrong. And I feel the resistance in my body to what my heart says . . . which only serves as evidence for what is being said.
- Earlier tonight I had a phone conversation with a good friend . . . who is currently at a crossroads in her own life. She's stuck. In all senses. And I'm trying to help her in the only way that I can right now - by holding space for her to build her practice. By handing over what I know. By holding her accountable. By pointing out the inconsistencies in a loving way. And by sharing my community with her. She's a resilient woman. And a beautiful one. And she talked tonight about how she wants it all. Not just her practice. But a man and a family too. Her last two boyfriends have been lost souls, stuck in their own issues. And so I said to her, 'get yourself unstuck, so that you can attract someone else who is also unstuck. Live your passion, so that you can attract someone else who can live their passion.' . . . and later . . . found myself wondering about the set of people that I have been attracting this year, including 8. Obviously, it's about boundaries. That's a no-brainer. But it also seems to be about being unavailable. Being these wonderful, exciting, amazing people . . . who are completely unavailable. Look in the mirror my friend. You are what you attract. Regardless of how the 'unavailability' occurs. I am unavailable. I have so much energy tied around the rape, the abuse, and yes, the termination. 8 is the closest I have come to being able to look at that honestly . . . to see it fully . . . and to share it with someone.
- I love 8. I have no doubts regarding that. And just like I see these other things in my life that will be created - the nonprofit, my MT practice, PSM, Marakame, grad school for Public Health . . . I see her and her children in my future as well. My heart sees all of this. I have a starting point. And I have a milestone marker. I know very very very little of the steps in between. And so I'm being asked to have faith. To live . . . in faith. To be . . . faith. And in the process of faith, 8 is a symbol to me. One that I cannot become attached to or have expectations of . . . like Raihan in some regards because I could do neither of those things with him. But I need to also acknowledge that she is a symbol to me . . . of my own journey towards healing . . . of faith . . . of what I want in this lifetime madly and deeply - a partner and a family.
- Speaking of madly and deeply . . . that would be an apt description for how I sobbed this morning . . . when I realized how incredibly lonely I am. Not lonely for community or friends. I have both. And gratitude for both. Lonely . . . so deeply lonely . . . so incredibly . . . amazingly . . . heartwrenchingly lonely for a partner. For one person in this world that I can connect with on all levels. The intensity of these emotions surprised me. Profoundly. I have a beautiful life. And I have always said that I would be celebrate my life each day regardless of whether I was single or in a relationship. I do. I have experienced so many things as a result of being single and being able to live my life as I pleased. I have grown in so many capacities. I'm healthy on so many levels. There is no regret for any of this. And yet there is a profound loneliness that sits at the root of all of this. All it took was for Arizona to say 'I love you' to her girlfriend tonight and I was a complete mess. Not because I can't say that to 8. I will, eventually. When the time is right for both her and I. I was a mess because I want to say it. I want to be able to say it. I want to have the opportunity TO say it. And to hear it in response. I tell my friends all of the time that I love them. I think it takes half of them by surprise since it's a phrase that you don't usually say unless you're dating someone. But there is truth when I say it. I do love them. And so I say it. But saying it a million times to your friends . . . does not equal saying it one time to the person you want to spend your life with.
- Family. And for this one . . . I actually have to stop and focus on breathing . . . because even just thinking about writing about it . . . brings tears to my eyes. I want family. It's not that I feel the need to bear children. It's that I want children in my life. Children who are going to look to me every day for stability and support and unconditional love. Children who are going to press all of my buttons . . . and who are going to make me laugh . . . and who are going to make me cry . . . and who are going to make my heart sing. My heart beats fiercely for that. I don't know that I would be able to peacefully accept a lifetime without children. Honestly.
- I am exhausted. I've been supporting the people in my life as fully as I can. And I've been doing an exceptional job at taking care of myself . . . well . . . perhaps exceptional is a strong word . . . there is always room for improvement. The reality is, I've been keeping a good balance and not overextending. But here, in this moment, I am exhausted. I need some support. I need someone to hug me and tell me that it's going to be okay. Really okay. I might even need a shoulder to cry on. I don't know. And I get that all that I have to do is ask. But right now I'm too tired to ask. It's easier just to get on my bike and go for a ride. Or pull out my yoga mat and breathe. But it's not the same.
The reality is . . . I'm terrified. All logic aside . . . stepping away from the analysis . . . dropping the synchronicity of everything that is unfolding . . . just looking within . . . I am terrified to do this. I am terrified to walk through this. I am terrified to feel this. I am terrified to sit in it. It feels ominous - as though it's going to gut me. And when I look at the responsibilities that I have on my plate . . . there is no space for that. There's not even space for this - being awake in the middle of the night. And yet there has to be . . . because it has already started. Nothing short of cutting 8 out of my life and closing off ALL of the opportunities in my life . . . will halt this . . . and even that would only be temporary.
I actually did think tonight of shutting the door on 8. Terrible, I know. But it's because of what she represents to me. Not because of who she is. Somewhere deep inside I was caught in the transitions of her life . . . as a way to avoid dealing with this particular transition in my life. I think Mama Sequoia knew this . . . and I believe that is why she asked me to bring 8 to her . . . and why she gave me the homework that she did . . . so that they could forge a connection that would ultimately help both of us. I think she knew I was getting stuck on this. And why. Being in that space would serve neither of us. So she stepped in.
My acupuncturist once said to me, that in each opportunity for healing, there is always a choice to be made. You can always choose to sidestep it . . . for now . . . and that is an honorable decision if it's what you need in this moment. If you feel as though you don't have what you need in order to survive . . . and in order to live it fully. However, in choosing this, you have to recognize that this lesson will circle back around to you, at another time, in another way. And you will be given the same choice again. Some people spend a lifetime refusing to choose the opportunity to heal.
Here, in this moment, I am choosing. And even as I type that, I feel my entire body resisting.
I want to live fully. These lessons that have been circling around me for years . . . I choose to learn them now. Because I see where I am in this moment. And I see what I want for my future. And I have faith that I will be guided from here to there.
I posted this on 8's FB wall tonight . . . I need to be reminded as well . . .
When you come to the edge of all the light you know, and are about to step off into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. ~ Barbara Winter
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Eastern Body Western Mind
That is the title of a book that I have been reading on and off for the past year. This is how I read . . . on and off . . . over one hundred books on my shelf and only about three of them have been read from cover to cover.
The tag line for this book is 'Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self'. I have to admit to being very skeptical when I first picked it up. Apparently I am more apt to believe in being talked to by a plant than I am to believe in energy centers of the body. Sometimes the word 'chakra' still makes me cringe.
But this book is helping to shift some of that 'twitchy' sensation that occurs. When I bought it last year, I spent a lot of time reading and re-reading the section on the 1st chakra - the root chakra whose element was Earth. Not unlikely at all. Afterall, one needs to be very deeply grounded in order to move forward. And that was a process of two years of work before I ever picked up this book and read anything. So . . . three years of acupuncture, meditation, and qi gong to put myself in my body.
And now we arrive at the second chakra. Its' element . . . water. Synchronicity at its' finest. I will share a small excerpt from the introduction:
Diving in the Waters
As we enter the second chakra, we encounter the watery realm of emotions and sexuality. Where we have worked for grounding and stability in the first chakra, we now cultivate feelings and movement; where we have been concerned with survival and structure, we now focus on sexuality and pleasure. Our associated element has shifted from earth to water, from solid to liquid. In this transmutation we encounter change. Through consistency, consciousness finds meaning through change, it finds stimulation and expansion.
If we think of the body as a vessel for the soul and spirit, then the element of earth in chakra one provides support and containment for the fluid essence of chakra two, much like a cup holds water . . . In the first chakra, we learned to ground, stabilize, and focus. Now, in the second chakra, our challenge is just the opposite - to let go - to flow and move, to feel, and to yield.
There's not much to say beyond this . . . at least in this moment . . . just an acknowledgement of what I'm moving into and where it will be guiding me. I have been remiss in a particular assignment of mine . . . that was given to me in order to help me on this path towards healing. Every time I sit down to work on it, I feel resistance in my body. So I will try and try again . . . slowly and surely.
In the meantime I am back in the ovulatory phase of my cycle . . . a detail that has me once again separating from the lower realms of my torso. Not only has it caused me much anxiety in the past 36 hours but it has also led me to a double dose of a chocolate cookie and a croissant . . . not the end of my world but certainly nothing that is very helpful either . . . if only in the sense of filling what seems to be an empty space there.
The tag line for this book is 'Psychology and the Chakra System as a Path to the Self'. I have to admit to being very skeptical when I first picked it up. Apparently I am more apt to believe in being talked to by a plant than I am to believe in energy centers of the body. Sometimes the word 'chakra' still makes me cringe.
But this book is helping to shift some of that 'twitchy' sensation that occurs. When I bought it last year, I spent a lot of time reading and re-reading the section on the 1st chakra - the root chakra whose element was Earth. Not unlikely at all. Afterall, one needs to be very deeply grounded in order to move forward. And that was a process of two years of work before I ever picked up this book and read anything. So . . . three years of acupuncture, meditation, and qi gong to put myself in my body.
And now we arrive at the second chakra. Its' element . . . water. Synchronicity at its' finest. I will share a small excerpt from the introduction:
Diving in the Waters
As we enter the second chakra, we encounter the watery realm of emotions and sexuality. Where we have worked for grounding and stability in the first chakra, we now cultivate feelings and movement; where we have been concerned with survival and structure, we now focus on sexuality and pleasure. Our associated element has shifted from earth to water, from solid to liquid. In this transmutation we encounter change. Through consistency, consciousness finds meaning through change, it finds stimulation and expansion.
If we think of the body as a vessel for the soul and spirit, then the element of earth in chakra one provides support and containment for the fluid essence of chakra two, much like a cup holds water . . . In the first chakra, we learned to ground, stabilize, and focus. Now, in the second chakra, our challenge is just the opposite - to let go - to flow and move, to feel, and to yield.
There's not much to say beyond this . . . at least in this moment . . . just an acknowledgement of what I'm moving into and where it will be guiding me. I have been remiss in a particular assignment of mine . . . that was given to me in order to help me on this path towards healing. Every time I sit down to work on it, I feel resistance in my body. So I will try and try again . . . slowly and surely.
In the meantime I am back in the ovulatory phase of my cycle . . . a detail that has me once again separating from the lower realms of my torso. Not only has it caused me much anxiety in the past 36 hours but it has also led me to a double dose of a chocolate cookie and a croissant . . . not the end of my world but certainly nothing that is very helpful either . . . if only in the sense of filling what seems to be an empty space there.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Grandmother Ocean
I've been quiet again. There is only so much that my heart can take, and this week has put me on overload almost every single day. I have gratitude for my genius of a friend who encouraged me to make a list of five things I could accomplish each morning, and then following through on that list. Guaranteed I was productive. And then the very second that the fifth thing was crossed off, I was going around in circles again. She also suggested that I cap my personal writing time to 30 minutes, until I finished everything on my list. That seemed to help as well. Even writing has me spinning in circles.
I've either felt incredibly grounded IN my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable. Or I've been walking around feeling in shock and completely OUT of my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable.
I think, after a PSM treatment, a community fire, and a day at the ocean I can rightfully claim that order has been restored in my system. I feel much more calm. Centered. Whole.
So today, I had my date with Grandmother Ocean . . . who requested that I visit her weekly. I took an incredibly long bike ride along the coast . . . sincerely could not get enough of moving my legs or just moving in general . . . I was like an addict searching for my next fix. But when I finally did lock up my bike and head to the ocean, I stood in the tide for almost an hour and barely moved. That was her request of me.
The tide was a bit tricky today. Sometimes it seemed as though it would never come to greet my toes, and other times it came rolling in up to my mid-thigh area. I watched it for awhile as I stood there . . . asked Mama Sequoia to come and join me - she had a message she needed me to deliver to 8. And then gave an offering to Grandmother, to share my gratitude for whatever she was going to teach me.
Today's lesson was about faith. Quite poignant considering that this is a word that I used at the fire on Friday evening . . . sharing how faith comes from the heart . . . as opposed to belief which comes from the head. I can't say that I've ever truly experienced 'faith'. And yet, in the process that I'm in now, faith is what I'm being asked to have . . . to cultivate . . . to live. Feeling that space in my heart, where it resides . . . begin to heal . . . has left me in tears for most of the weekend. For me, faith is a feeling . . . something that I'm working to breathe light into . . . so that I can live from that space once again.
So, Grandmother Ocean, in her wisdom . . . taught me about faith . . . taught me about standing in the tide, with my feet planted in the sand . . . holding faith above all else as her waters came to me over and over again. She is faith. The second that I moved in the tide, out of fear, instead of staying in place out of faith . . . I almost fell. And after a long dance like this . . . she finally asked me to close my eyes and stand in one place. For some, it would seem that trust would be key in this request. But trust, for me, represents something seen. Faith is what cannot be seen. So I closed my eyes and stood. And at times she was gentle with me. And at other times, not so gentle. There were only a few times where I opened my eyes. And each time I did, I heard her asking me to have faith.
Faith is where I stand right now. For the first time in my life, I cannot see what is ahead, for better or for worse. I cannot even guess as to what the best or worst case scenario would be. The only thing that I can do, is have faith.
Faith is guided by action. My own, in this moment. And I realized today, that those actions can be quick or slow . . . I do have a choice. I don't need to rush into unraveling the pain and humility of the sexual abuse and rape simply because I feel called to do so in a particular way. It is okay . . . more than okay for me to take my time and to build my faith, like a muscle . . . there are smaller things that I can do in the process of all of this . . . that will serve me well in preparation. The space in my heart that is healing . . . that is asking to be my guide as I move forward . . . will let me know when it is time for me to embark on particular things that will move me through this process. Until then I can rest easy in knowing that while those past events in my life were pushed upon me . . . these events now are choices that I have a say in. Ultimately I will find my way to what I feel called towards. Even if only five tasks at a time.
I've either felt incredibly grounded IN my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable. Or I've been walking around feeling in shock and completely OUT of my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable.
I think, after a PSM treatment, a community fire, and a day at the ocean I can rightfully claim that order has been restored in my system. I feel much more calm. Centered. Whole.
So today, I had my date with Grandmother Ocean . . . who requested that I visit her weekly. I took an incredibly long bike ride along the coast . . . sincerely could not get enough of moving my legs or just moving in general . . . I was like an addict searching for my next fix. But when I finally did lock up my bike and head to the ocean, I stood in the tide for almost an hour and barely moved. That was her request of me.
The tide was a bit tricky today. Sometimes it seemed as though it would never come to greet my toes, and other times it came rolling in up to my mid-thigh area. I watched it for awhile as I stood there . . . asked Mama Sequoia to come and join me - she had a message she needed me to deliver to 8. And then gave an offering to Grandmother, to share my gratitude for whatever she was going to teach me.
Today's lesson was about faith. Quite poignant considering that this is a word that I used at the fire on Friday evening . . . sharing how faith comes from the heart . . . as opposed to belief which comes from the head. I can't say that I've ever truly experienced 'faith'. And yet, in the process that I'm in now, faith is what I'm being asked to have . . . to cultivate . . . to live. Feeling that space in my heart, where it resides . . . begin to heal . . . has left me in tears for most of the weekend. For me, faith is a feeling . . . something that I'm working to breathe light into . . . so that I can live from that space once again.
So, Grandmother Ocean, in her wisdom . . . taught me about faith . . . taught me about standing in the tide, with my feet planted in the sand . . . holding faith above all else as her waters came to me over and over again. She is faith. The second that I moved in the tide, out of fear, instead of staying in place out of faith . . . I almost fell. And after a long dance like this . . . she finally asked me to close my eyes and stand in one place. For some, it would seem that trust would be key in this request. But trust, for me, represents something seen. Faith is what cannot be seen. So I closed my eyes and stood. And at times she was gentle with me. And at other times, not so gentle. There were only a few times where I opened my eyes. And each time I did, I heard her asking me to have faith.
Faith is where I stand right now. For the first time in my life, I cannot see what is ahead, for better or for worse. I cannot even guess as to what the best or worst case scenario would be. The only thing that I can do, is have faith.
Faith is guided by action. My own, in this moment. And I realized today, that those actions can be quick or slow . . . I do have a choice. I don't need to rush into unraveling the pain and humility of the sexual abuse and rape simply because I feel called to do so in a particular way. It is okay . . . more than okay for me to take my time and to build my faith, like a muscle . . . there are smaller things that I can do in the process of all of this . . . that will serve me well in preparation. The space in my heart that is healing . . . that is asking to be my guide as I move forward . . . will let me know when it is time for me to embark on particular things that will move me through this process. Until then I can rest easy in knowing that while those past events in my life were pushed upon me . . . these events now are choices that I have a say in. Ultimately I will find my way to what I feel called towards. Even if only five tasks at a time.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Uneasy
It doesn't seem to matter that I'm physically exhausted. I can't sleep. I shared some very basic details of the sexual abuse and the rape with someone. Fairly straightforward. Very confidential. And yet I feel as though in doing so, I've exposed something that I can't quite take back. There's no 'undo' button. So I feel my body just waiting . . . waiting to be flooded with memories . . . waiting for the visceral sensations to rise uncontrollably. As though I've invited both of them back into my world again.
It's disconcerting, to say the least.
It's disconcerting, to say the least.
Growing Pains
I've been quiet the past few days . . . having meltdowns, processing, expanding, contracting, hiding, showing up, having more meltdowns, crying, being angry, reflecting, loving, asking for help, and trying to take good care of myself. Yes I think that about covers it. That, and picking out an orange paint color for one of my walls.
8 is going through an incredibly difficult time right now. And even that is the understatement of the century. As her friend, I have been in the thick of it, when she has allowed me to be. And even when she has withdrawn my heart has very much been there with her. The good news: she has taken the first steps of a very long journey, in a very strong and powerful way. She is going to come through this whole.
I had my meeting with Eliot. And that is all that I can say, for now.
And my world continues to feel as though it is in complete upheaval. Filled with positive possibilities of course . . . but when everything that you once knew to be true about yourself suddenly seems quite the opposite . . . when you can't find anything that feels familiar or comfortable . . . when you spend half of your day completely certain that you must be experiencing a mental health disorder . . . well . . . it's exhausting. Pulling my eyes open in the morning is a humongous task. And usually by 5 PM my body has had enough.
I ache everywhere. I can't tell if it's from an increase in movement, being stuck in a car for four + hours on Sunday, the beginnings of a cold, not enough sleep, not the right kinds of food, or the shifting of energy in my body and its' process of letting go and growing. It is all sorts of unpleasant.
And I am all sorts of wary about embarking on anything regarding healing from sexual abuse or rape right now. I'm not certain where, when, or how I will find the time. Yet, in the maddening circle that I call my life (affectionately of course), I know that taking steps down this path is the only way to truly cultivate my vision for the future. They are interconnected deeply.
So, I'll start with something fun - painting a wall orange. This was actually meant to help me focus on my work, but it serves a secondary purpose of activating the second chakra, which, of course, deals with sexual intimacy, boundaries, movement, connecting to others, etc.
It doesn't hurt that it's also the color of fire ;)
8 is going through an incredibly difficult time right now. And even that is the understatement of the century. As her friend, I have been in the thick of it, when she has allowed me to be. And even when she has withdrawn my heart has very much been there with her. The good news: she has taken the first steps of a very long journey, in a very strong and powerful way. She is going to come through this whole.
I had my meeting with Eliot. And that is all that I can say, for now.
And my world continues to feel as though it is in complete upheaval. Filled with positive possibilities of course . . . but when everything that you once knew to be true about yourself suddenly seems quite the opposite . . . when you can't find anything that feels familiar or comfortable . . . when you spend half of your day completely certain that you must be experiencing a mental health disorder . . . well . . . it's exhausting. Pulling my eyes open in the morning is a humongous task. And usually by 5 PM my body has had enough.
I ache everywhere. I can't tell if it's from an increase in movement, being stuck in a car for four + hours on Sunday, the beginnings of a cold, not enough sleep, not the right kinds of food, or the shifting of energy in my body and its' process of letting go and growing. It is all sorts of unpleasant.
And I am all sorts of wary about embarking on anything regarding healing from sexual abuse or rape right now. I'm not certain where, when, or how I will find the time. Yet, in the maddening circle that I call my life (affectionately of course), I know that taking steps down this path is the only way to truly cultivate my vision for the future. They are interconnected deeply.
So, I'll start with something fun - painting a wall orange. This was actually meant to help me focus on my work, but it serves a secondary purpose of activating the second chakra, which, of course, deals with sexual intimacy, boundaries, movement, connecting to others, etc.
It doesn't hurt that it's also the color of fire ;)
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