Wednesday, May 27, 2009

I feel like I'm stepping off the world into some kind of void. The sadness threatens to rise up and swallow me whole. In some ways, I welcome it - it feels like a sort of death, but as death is, also the start of something new. But in other ways I'm deathly afraid, ashamed of the actions that brought me here, embarrassed at how I continue to not be able to let go, afraid that this feeling of deep, soul-shattering emptiness will never fade, and that I will never embody the person, the energy, that I feel I'm meant to. That I'm a waste of precious breathe and space. The longing is immense - more than any one relationship or any one situation. When the tears come, they're not just tears for myself, but for everyone and all the pain that exists. I feel nobody else understands this. I feel so alone. The thing that keeps me going is the tiniest glimmer, the smallest spark of an idea, that maybe my solitude is the chrysalis, and that maybe, someday, I'll have the energy to burst out of the protective cloak and become something I've never been before.

Saturday, May 09, 2009

My lessons/gifts from the universe today

1) A gorgeous, amazing day and the inspiration to drive up to Napa

2) Classic car show in Calistoga - damn, I like a nice Ford Mustang, and those 60's era Chevys are nice, too. Turn me on. (Message to me: accept that you are a car ho. )

3) John Lennon singing "To Everything there is a season" in the cafe (message to me: things happen for a reason and nothing is permanent, so relax)

4) A road sign pointing to "(a very significant person in my life's name)'s Way" which I did not take. (Message: who knows)

5) A spider belaying on its own thread, a very, very long way between trees (message to me: I have no idea)

6) A really pretty metallic green and yellow bug with a red underbelly (Message: I don't know - metallic bugs are pretty?)

7) A lady relieving herself in the woods (???)

8) right after the lady, a convenient side trail to a pretty creek so I could go sit there and avoid seeing the lady on the trail, saving us both embarrassment

9) the realization that I had just been thinking of the word "Abundance" and had separated it into "A Bun Dance", and laughing because the lady was doing a bun dance! OK, maybe only funny to me.

10) The image above. (Message: Be patient with yourself as you would a child. You're still learning to walk....)

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

On Uncertainty

I have to say that this is the hardest thing I think I've ever done. I feel pathetic writing that, since it's so ridiculously mundane compared to what a lot of people go through, but it's true. It's triggered all my deep-seated fears of abandonment, my hidden conviction that I'm worthless and unloveable, my terror of the unknown and the uncontrollable, my longing for someone to stay with me, love me, and protect me. There's a reason why I never liked those scare-inducing rides at the amusement park and never liked taking physical risk, never liked watching horror movies or telling ghost stories; I don't like being afraid, being out of control, and having to sit with uncertainty. Let's just say that I am not a candidate for sky-diving.

Now, sitting here, surrounded by the unknown, by the infinite possibilities generated by my very imaginative brain, and the worst part: not being able to check them out with you or reach you at all, I find I'm terrified. And in response to that terror, I worry. I worry incessantly, with all my soul. There's an ache in my gut, a gaping chasm of blackness; there's no trust that things will be alright in the end, no hope that we will ever get through this, and a nagging feeling that you are now lost to me forever, almost like you never existed. Sometimes I fear you are dead, and that I will never know, because nobody would think to tell me. I recognize this worry as a way to try to control things, like somehow my worry will reach across the physical space between us and help things turn out alright. At least I'm not just sitting here doing nothing! Because there is nothing I can do. And that terrifies me.

To deal with the terror, which some people may call anxiety but feels like absolute, crippling terror, I turned to a technique called EMT, or Eye Movement Technique, based on EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). It was easy, I could do it by myself, and it works for me. During one session, trying to calm my anxiety, I concentrated on this gaping terror-feeling in my gut, and after a half a minute of tapping, I had a vision of a little girl, cowering in absolute fear in the corner of a dark room. It was more than just fear of some specific threat out there that she was feeling, it was an all-encompassing panic-stricken fear of the world; of where she had found herself by being born. Like a wide-eyed, horrified sense of "What the hell is this place?"

I felt such compassion for her and concern for her that I started to cry. I wanted to hug her and tell her it was all going to be alright, that she was safe. It sounds so cheesy, but I know that little girl was me - my inner child or my inner terror, anyway - the thing that is terrified of being brutalized by this bizarre place we call reality; the little girl who hides and cowers, trying not to be noticed, and not knowing how to stand up and blossom. So that lasted for a few minutes, and then I felt a little better. But the worry, the agony of the not-knowing is still in there, if a bit calmer.

I wonder what I'm supposed to be learning by having you in my life. How to let go? How to deal with uncertainty and impermanence? How to ride the waves? I worry about you, I want you home, I send you all my love, and yes, I let you go.

May you be peaceful
may you be happy
May you be healthy
May you find joy