Live Life With Childlike Abandon

Sooo, while on hiatus this past weekend, I stayed with a friend I've known for a few years. Despite the length of time we've known each other, we've never spent much one on one time together, at least not enough to get to know the little bits and pieces of one another that really make us the people we are, deep down. 

I'm talking about the habits and beliefs one only sees when they look closely, when they are afforded the time, interest and attention span necessary to truly witness someone else...In the raw. Over the weekend there was definitely plenty of time, and I'm fairly certain I was under the microscope. After all, I'm a rare and interesting specimen, unique indeed!  *wink wink*

Throughout the days, my friend repeatedly told me how much fun I am, and I often caught him watching me play and explore with a look of (what I interpreted to be) awe on his face. The kind of awe people get when they watch a child having fun playing with a string or a box, a sort of amusement at the simplicity of a child's pleasure, maybe even a bit of longing, a brief reminder of when life was so much easier. A wistfulness that things could be so simple for them again, perhaps. 

All weekend long I let it all go. For the most part. There was a brief moment as I was reading some email when I was temporarily pulled back into the stresses that create walls in our lives. And as I felt my body tense up, my face get squinchy and tears well up in my eyes, I immediately fell into Child's Pose, a yoga pose of pure surrender, and I allowed myself to be held by Mother (Earth) until I could remind myself, "I am taking a break to take in what is..And not worry about what will be." 

So I walked away from my email, separating myself from my electronic leashes. I'm learning how to be more present in my life. And with the exception of that situation, I spent the days and nights I was away listening to music constantly, dancing, singing, playing with my pups, photographing bugs, feeding and petting Horsey, admiring his strength and beauty, spoiling him with more carrots and oranges than I was suppose to give him. 

I noticed tiny flowers and spent time examining them closely, noting their smallest characteristics. I ate fresh oranges from the same tree I searched for spiders, hoping to examine their beautiful webs, all the while allowing my hands and face to get sticky as I relished the sweet, intense flavor, thankful for the cool, refreshing nourishment of the citrus fruit. I always ache to feel the earth beneath my feet, so I walked around the yard barefoot, carefully since there were lots of thistles, and enjoyed the feeling of a small splinter piercing the flesh of my right food, it was refreshing to be reminded just how alive I am. 

I played hide and seek with my friend, and tag..We had so much fun running away from each other, me yelling and screaming, both of us laughing, having tickle wars when we would catch one another. Of course the pups had to get involved, what fun would a game of tag be without even teams of 2 dogs and 2 humans? We boxed with Butchy and got besos from Bru and instigated leg biting between the two pups..To say the least, all 4 of us burned a lot of energy, and were in great spirits all weekend long.

On Saturday night, we returned to the city for a DubStep show at The Kava Lounge. This was (for the most part) the first time I have gone out to a club just to dance since being in recovery, actually, for well over a year. I have been so nervous that I would not connect to the music the same way, or enjoy it as much as I use to when I would go dancing high. On the way in, a guy my friend knew walked past and asked if we wanted to roll..Anything was possible, as it always is. 

However, I spent this night drug free, danced for 3 hours straight. You couldn't have lured me away from the dance floor no matter what. I was having so much fun that even when my friend would step outside for a cigarette nothing could distract me. Social anxiety smocial anxiety..In this moment it just didn't matter. What I noticed was this: When I dance and I'm really feeling it, my eyes are closed most of the time, I laugh a lot, and I get really excited when the music oscillates. 

Sunday upon returning to San Diego, my friend and I decided to get sushi for lunch. We went to Zensei, a sushi joint I really like, not far from my home in North Park. We had Miso Soup, a Spicy Tuna Roll and Caterpillar Roll, Seared Albacore Nigiri and something new to me....New Zealand Pearl White Tuna Nigiri. 

As I was chewing the first piece of this new to me treat, my eyes got big and I pointed at my mouth while I said 'MmmmmHmmmmmmm!!!! MMMMMM!!!" and smiled the best I could, full mouthed and closed lipped. My friend, smiling, said something about how cute and obvious it is when I really enjoy something, sort of like a little kid. 

When I swallowed my food, I said thank you..And briefly explained my thoughts on enjoying life to the fullest. Which went something (but not exactly) like this: 

I want to experience everything in life with childlike awe and wonder. I want to truly enjoy every second as though I haven't been conditioned by society, I want to be amazed by what I'm experiencing, full of love, happiness and appreciation. Why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't anyone? It may, indeed, be the fountain of youth. Because we are only as old as we make ourselves out to be..Age is a matter of perception. 

I don't care what the number game says, I want to live and love every second of life with childlike abandon. 

Portland

the thick, humid weight of your words

and the static crack of your voice

what?..stop!..wait...what was that i just heard

in the overly deliberate annunciation of your mumblings

heavily sauced, wavering in and out of audibility 

strain to hear, comprehend, ears now ringing 

tears like dewdrops sliding down petals of a flower

forge southbound over blushing fleshy hills 

little sparkling rivers, fed of a sudden spring shower

my spirit trembling, biting back sobs i can't be rid of

my soul understood your words, i heard from within

your child voice..along with mine...."i just want to be loved"

i want to comfort you..stand by you..witness and honor you

it's the one surviving constant through life's changes of heart

our love is all that remains, binding soulmates through and true

Do You Know Me?

Circa 1979

Circa 1981

Circa 1987

Circa 1989

August 1996

October 2002

Photography by Skip Middleton

August 2004
Photography by Skip Middleton

Circa 2006
Photography by Zwink Photography

Circa 2007
Photography by Zwink Photography

August 2008
Photography by Skip Middleton

February 2010

Photography by Skip Middleton

As a Result of the Result

Soooo, some of you know that recently I've been depressed. Deeply depressed, clearly, and suffering some scary physical issues (ie narcolepsy, it would seem) as a result of emotional turmoil, being in constant reaction, trying to heal extremely deep and painful wounds and constantly processing all of this and everything else. 

As a result of the result of this (ha) I haven't been doing art, haven't had the creative possess or desire, not to mention the self confidence to even finish things started long ago let alone start anything new....Until recently. I finished some art. Which felt really good, and was a big confidence booster, especially since I was actually excited about the result.

I also have not been blogging, OBVIOUSLY, which is tragic! But writing is one of the things that was triggering me the most. Blogging. It's what brought the scary sleep problem back after 4 or 5 years of not having an episode. Basically, at risk of sounding like I'm self diagnosing here, I can only compare my experience to my understanding of narcolepsy. 

This IS a trauma response for me, and is definitely triggered by really powerful, hurtful emotions, it always has been. This use to happen every now and again, but until about a month ago I hadn't had to deal with it in about 4 years. But it happened a number of times, when it happened before. I would get upset, and just straight up pass out, no matter where I was or what was going on around me. 

When this would happen, 4 or 5 years ago, it was really intense and scary. Basically, I would experience a complete loss of control and function. Even over the ability to speak. The last thing that would happen is my eyes would shut, and up until that point, I remember being fully aware of everything, just unable to move. People would be trying to talk to me, ask if I was ok, but I wouldn't be able to answer. I would just go to sleep.

The difference with the most intense (and first) of my more recent experiences was that I noticed early on that I was starting to feel funny, presumably because I'm so much more conscious and present in my body. Because of this heightened sense of awareness, I was able to catch the symptoms in the beginning stages, stop what I was doing, which was blogging, and give myself my full attention. And I was able to take control of the situation, instead of losing control.

After a few seconds of just paying attention, I remembered when I had felt that way before, a heavy, achy sorta feeling in my body, indescribable feeling of discomfort in my stomach and tired eyed, a strange feeling of gradual loss of control..Helplessness..And I knew what was most likely coming. So I made myself get up and go do something with my dogs, to kinda distract from what I was writing, ie what was most likely causing that to happen. It was really hard to do, but it worked, I didn't pass out.

After this, when I would start to experience the symptoms, I would divert myself. I would say something to someone if I was in group or session, or make myself get up and move until it passed. I have been very much on an emotional edge lately, and haven't really been able take much before I start to react. Involuntarily. These kinda things tend to creep up on ya.

Lately, it hasn't been so intense as it was there for a little while, but I find that I still sorta shut down..When people get upset around me and raise their voices, I suddenly feel very small, scared, and it's not unusual for me to start crying. Or just get really quiet and basically distance myself in whatever way possible. Even if it's just to tune everything out.

I decided to take a break from writing for a while, as this was primarily when I would go into reaction. I have 8 or 9 unfinished blogs now. A lot comes up for me when I write, and I try to process all that arises by acknowledging it in my writing, and working with it by just allowing it to be there. But since this doesn't seem to be working, I'm not sure when I will revisit and attempt to finish the incomplete writing. All I can say is, when the time is right.

Maybe you've picked up on this with me, maybe you haven't, either way I just have to say out loud, to someone other than myself and my pups, that without creativity, I don't feel alive. It's definitely (obviously) been a struggle through my various attempts at sobriety, and many many many times in the past, creativity, or the lack thereof, has been a huge reason I started using again after being sober for x amount of time.

This particular attempt at recovery, however, has been different in that I have not suffered the level of severity I am accustomed to regarding lack of creativity while I'm sober. I know it's a big part of what's kept me going. Creativity and my dogs....They are the 2 main things. So my recent lack of inspiration was pretty intense and difficult to deal with. But here we are. And almost a year deep, none the less.

I'm baaaaaaaaaack.....Or, at least, trying very genuinely to be.

CLM

goosebumps, the taste of salt
memories and a broken heart.
nothing runs deeper than this,
except him. true love is forever.
♥

Something Old...And Something New

That was then...Circa 2004

This is now...Feb 2010

How much have I changed in the years between these photos? 

Photography by Skip Middleton

Do You REALLY Mean Everything You Say?

He said, "Let me ask you a question..Do you really mean everything you say?"

*Neutral posture, no body language, emotionless gaze.*

((Where did that question come from, and why can't I "hear" what he's really asking me?))

"Well, with the exception of when I'm "talking shit," which is completely obvious....Yes..I believe I do..Why? Is there a reason you're asking me this?"

"Well, it's just something you said earlier..About how you may feel THIS way about something today....But tomorrow, you may feel completely different.."

((Ahhhh...!))

*Smile*

((I love it when people really listen to what I'm saying..And how nice to have my most recent epiphany addressed..))

**Nod acknowledging the question while processing the answer**

"Yes..It's true! As hypocritical as that may look in this moment, I have come to a deeper understanding of "Beliefs" recently. I'm able to see now that how I feel about anything, and what I believe about anything, is determined by what I have learned about it. So it is not reasonable to refuse to re-examine my beliefs when new information is introduced to me, THAT would not be living authentically."

*Breathe*

**Inventory what I've said..And what I still need to convey**

((I'm doing it! This is making sense!))

"It does not mean that what I think/feel TODAY is wrong, because it isn't, it's just what is true for me IN THIS MOMENT. BUT I am learning new things, all day everyday. So many things I've always thought I deeply understood often look different now, because I'm open to accepting new information about these very important beliefs. I have recently noticed a shift in how I feel about my beliefs and being open to making adjustments, even when it's uncomfortable or hard." 

((Here it is...I'm actually gonna get it all out!))

"In my opinion, the privilege to change our minds whenever we want to is one of the greatest gifts of being human. And the biggest hypocrisy would be to not allow myself to evolve by shutting things out that could shift my beliefs, which would be a huge insult to myself and the people around me, it would not be mindful, it would not be conscious. It would be judgmental, it would be self sabotage, it would definitely be failure. It is our right and responsibility as humans to lead as full an existence as possible, and to accomplish that, nothing can be overlooked or ignored."

*Breathe*

((That wasn't so bad...I think I did it!))

"....You've changed....So much about you is different, you've really changed."

*Neutral posture, no body language, emotionless gaze* 

((Why can't I "hear" what he's really telling me?))

*Breathe, create space, stop trying to judge his words*

"Not just your appearance, something deep about you has changed.."

 ((As good as truly being listened to right now feels, this is getting uncomfortable, he's known me for years and I feel like I'm under his magnifying glass..Well, I meant all of what I said, so it is what it is. It will be ok, I'm being authentic. That's the best I can do. It's ok!))

"You've definitely changed, and only in a GOOD way."

*Nod*

*Breathe....*

((WHEW!!!))

*Smile*

"Thank you...."

In Due Time

I know that thinking about the future (or the past, for that matter) too much prevents me from being present RIGHT NOW, which, in reality, is all that really matters. In MY personal opinion, at least. Because I know the past is gone, and the "future" may never come, and who knows what will happen from one second to the next..But knowledge doesn't make me anything greater than human, I live a very human existence. Obviously.

So, sometimes I think about the future. And the past too of course, but that is another story, for a future blog. Or 13,013 future blogs, perhaps!  ヅ  God knows I could go on forever about the past, who couldn't, right? Anyways.....This blog is about the future, and my feelings about MY future. Relationship wise, where I want to be, the potential of parenting, these ideas inspire this blog, and what I am experiencing.

Remarkable, isn't it, that I recently came to the conclusion that setting goals is, YES, a good thing, a GREAT thing...But at the same time, getting into the details in goal setting isn't so good. Because that's how we develop expectations, and expectations, I am learning, are what cause disappointment. Yes, it's true. Painfully obvious, but incredibly difficult to avoid. Again, it's part of the human existence.

Lately, when I get caught up in the great bear trap of my mind, the notion of the future and how I want things to be, and my thoughts carry on just a little longer than they should and my mental picture of my future grows less fuzzy and more specific..I'm left with something new. Instead of continuing on in my daydream, if you will, something else is happening.

The internal chatter ceases, my soul's buzz halts. All that normally fills me vanishes, leaving me so full of empty that it seems there isn't even room for comfort. Instead, I'm experiencing feelings of uncertainty, loneliness, a feeling that life is passing me by and an urgency that goes unanswered. Because I simply don't have the solution yet. It's something that comes with time.

I know that I could have someone to keep me warm at night. It could be someone different every night, if so desired. And there have been times in my life when it didn't matter, as long as someone was there. Any port in the storm, as they say. But it matters now. It REALLY fucking matters. Love, connection, chemistry, attraction, passion, trust, safety, inspiration..Suddenly, ALL of these things matter to me.

I know, I know, in due time. And honestly, I'm not even looking anymore. Not only do I realize I have work to do and intend on honoring myself by doing this work, I already know where I belong. It's something I just know, like a person just knows how to breathe. My past and my future are so intertwined, with the exception of my addiction, it's all very easy to see. Moreover, I feel it in my soul. I KNOW it in my spirit.

In due time. On a lighter note, like my mom says, I always get what I want..Soooo..In due time. 

13

Thirteen years ago today, my grampa died. He had cancer, I'll never forget. I lived with him, and my gramma at the time, in the home where they raised their family, in my hometown. I didn't have a relationship with either of my parents at the time, I was a senior in high school, ready to graduate in a month. I was a full blown addict by this time. 

I will never forget what happened that morning. I will never forget the look on my gramma's face. I will never forget feeling like I let time slip away, like I didn't take the time to say my goodbyes, like I could have been there with him more. 

I will also never forget that he was my hero, he loved me and was gentle with me, his stories or the things he loved. The way his shop smelled and the ham radio he built from bits with his own hands. I will never forget his laugh, his eyes, his jokes. Or the way he was respected and admired. He was a good man. Truly.

I could go on forever but what I really want to say is this....I am so glad to be honoring his life completely sober today. I can't remember ever spending this day 100% sober. It is painful, the memories are vivid, but goddammit, he deserves it and so do I. 

The last several years this day has often come and gone without me even noticing what day it was consciously. Because I was fucked up. Never again. I already called my gramma, dad and aunt today. Because it's a day of family, he held us together. Now, we have to hold each other. Because it's important.

I will never forget.

HOME

Home is where the heart is

I want to go home

Wherever that is

Night Time

i really like my space

it's a big part of why i love the night time

it's so quiet

and lonely

and cleaner

One Wish

if i could have just 1 wish right now....i would wish for a snuggle
i want to be held now, right now. i need to be loved in this very moment,
i hate the early mornings of the day following a bad day...

could i snuggle in as close as possible, bury my self in your neck

wiggling and feeling around til i find the perfect spot

where the shape of your shoulder fits the curves of my face..

where i can't see anything, where nothing can see me,

but i can still breathe through my nose.....

can i wrap my feet around your legs, flattening myself to your skin 

til a part of you is touching every single part of me

wrap some of your hair round my fingers a few times..

rub it's softness between the pads of my first and middle finger

i'd put my other hand on your chest so i could feel you breathe..

and your heartbeat..

would i finally find the safety and comfort i need, i so desperately want

in this space..this love space

could i finally just feel loved and let go of all my judgment

and experience what i just KNOW exists..i believe it's out there 

something bigger than life, and i want it..to truly love and be loved 

to truly believe and feel it

The Right Thing

My close girlfriend hit me up on instant messenger last night, we chat often since she moved back home to the east coast from San Diego, some time ago. I cherish these moments I'm privileged to have with her, even if only online and lacking the majority of the nonverbal interpersonal communication that is often necessary for deep understanding between 2 individuals. As kindred spirits, our connection is always present, despite the physical distance between and the passage of time, spiritually we are always within reach of one another.

I miss and love her dearly, she is a GOOD person, she is REAL, she is growing and evolving in ways one can only hope to witness throughout the lives of ALL the people they love, which, ironically, are commonly the same ways we often resist, refuse to acknowledge, and just plain deny ourselves personal growth in our own lives. It's The Hard Stuff, the parts of us that we don't want to admit, don't have the confidence to take a look at, the things which trigger our shame, insecurity, anger, sadness and all the other emotions which are a natural part of our soulful existence as human beings, but are regarded, unfortunately, as negative and unattractive.

Every time I talk to my friend, she's working hard to achieve a deeper understanding, or at least a deeper acceptance of herself and others, she's creating space for growth..And LOVE..I'm so proud of her. She's amazing, beautiful and brave, an inspiration...I'm blessed to have this space with her, it's always a learning experience in some way. It's so easy to love my Bean, and she deserves it.

We talk about a variety of topics, anything that comes up. There is no need to filter what is communicated, there is no judgment. How nice to have a friend to tell anything to, that can be truly and infinitely trusted, who's feedback is immeasurably valuable but who offers advice without expectation, honoring and supporting your right to make your own decisions based on whatever criteria you've determined pertinent to the outcome of the situation in question. Someone who may not always understand your needs, but at least respects them, and encourages you to do so as well.

As amazing as this is, I sometimes don't do a good job of honoring the woman she is in my life..And I end up feeling guilty, irritable and exhausted, not to mention inadequate. There are 2 contributing factors in this and both have the same central theme, which is that I rarely take space for myself when I need it, They are:

1) I am almost always there when she calls on me, even when I feel it's not in my best interest to be emotionally..I have a really difficult time setting boundaries, I often experience a feeling of intense guilt when I'm trying to determine appropriate boundaries, plus I become consumed with my inability to communicate that, sometimes, I am not in the space to take anything else on..OR that I simply don't have the energy necessary to be there for her if she (or anyone, this is a common issue for me) needs someone.

2) I also struggle with resistance to asking someone to just hear me every now and then, especially when I need it to just be about ME. There are times when I feel like I just need to talk, vent, empty myself of what's creating pressure, and I don't want to take in anything to replace what I'm releasing. Sometimes I don't want to be related to, I want my experience to be acknowledged as it's own, honored for what it is individually, in relation to ME, despite the similar experiences of anyone else. I really want to be heard, and sometimes I feel as though I'm not being listened to and truly acknowledged when I try to express myself as a way of asking to be supported, only to be answered with a story of how the person I am speaking with has been through the same thing. It's nice to be related to, I certainly don't want to seem ungrateful or selfish, but even if EVERYONE in the world has been through what I have been through, it doesn't make my personal experience any less significant or easy to deal with for me. I'm working on this, but I still rarely ask for help or support when I need it, from anyone, even her, even though I suspect I am taking away from her experience in our relationship by holding back.

Sooooo.....A few days ago I got to talk to her for the first time in probably a week, I was really glad to hear from her, we usually talk more than this, I think. Anyways, I was feeling lonely for her attention, to be perfectly honest. But on this day, as has been the case fairly often lately, I was not feeling well.

Depressed, bouts of crying out of nowhere, that feeling that life is passing me by, somehow...Loneliness, shame, longing, guilt, even regret. Yes...There IT is finally, I have decided there IS something, at least 1 thing, I have done in my life that I regret. It makes me nauseous to admit that, even now. 

Uncertainty, worthlessness, undeserving...I could go on with the list of the emotions I was experiencing, AM experiencing, but I don't know how self serving that would be, and I'm sure I've gotten my point across. I wasn't, haven't been, and still am not feeling good about myself, and of course, it is all in relation to the central theme and need in my life...Love. To love and be loved, to be in relationship mindfully and fruitfully. Fuuuuuuu! And now, the tears again. Ugghhhhhhhhhh.......

Ok, so.....One thing we ALWAYS talk about is where she's at dating and relationship wise. It's usually the first thing we talk about, and as usual, last night's conversation was started with an update about her guy and their relationship. Which I normally welcome and am eager to hear....But last night, I was not in the mood to talk to her about anything relationship related.

Because I was hurting so badly, and this particular wound I am working so hard to heal is so very deep, it was really hard for me to be open to her. It's like a wound to my spirit that, over time, couldn't heal and festered into a raging infection of my soul. And it hurts. It even encompasses my physical body, and it clouds my thoughts, sometimes even persuades my feelings. But I'm always trying to be a good friend, trying to have patience for her and myself..She deserves for me to be the same friend I always am, she deserves stability and a reliable confidante, even if I don't feel tolerant emotionally.

So I conversed with her about how things are going, how she is feeling, read about how happy she is and what her experience of being in love is like. And I still can't put words to how happy I am for her, this is such good news! I responded to her questions, gave her my honest opinion when asked, I was a good friend, as I feel I always am..All the while feeling as though I'm dying inside, still crying off and on. Instant messenger texting doesn't convey emotion, it's a very godless thing...So she never even knew.

In my recovery, and as I'm learning how to care for myself, I've come to realize that not only is it a healthy practice for me to set boundaries for MYSELF, inevitably all parties involved receive something from it. So at the same time I was being a "good" friend, I was failing her..And myself. It makes me feel so good to be helpful, to always be available, to be a "good" friend..And at the same time, in situations like this, I end up crushing myself. I can see both things, I can relate to both things..Maybe someday I'll be able to choose just one thing. The RIGHT thing.

823

Disheveled here in this place called San Diego

Ohh, ohhh, oh and I know

At any time I can go

Anywhere....I only wanna come to you, though

A Kindred Spirit

Quite refreshing.

Like a breath of country air, drop of water from a moutain spring.

Just a dwindling fairy tale in this urban decay.

 

A memory handed down ever more seldomly as the generations stray.

Technology, ever patient, quietly takes over.

Years, lives, eras, memories defeatedly grow shorter.

The end, the beginning, unsung revolution encroaches.

Abhorred and unheeded premonition, end of days incessantly approaches.

Recovery and Going Public....Live and In the Flesh

ORIGINALLY POSTED:   Sunday, February 07, 2010      

 






Friday, February 05th, 2010 marked the date of the Shakti Rising Friday Night Salon, a very important once monthly event which allows the community (including but not limited to future volunteers, donors, apprentices, etc) to come be a part of Shakti Rising for the evening. Guests experience first hand how the program works, and what it's like to be a part of the Shakti Community, from the standpoint of the Apprentices, Volunteers and Staff Members as they are given a tour of the grounds. A meal is also served, during which Guests are encouraged to converse with each other, Shakti Staff and Volunteers, and even the Apprentices. Friday Night Salons are a huge part of what sustains Shakti Rising, as this is a very real way for financial supporters to see how their contributions help create social change. Friday Night Salons are probably the most important event we host, please click HERE if you would like more information.
This month's Salon was particularly special to me, as I had my first experience speaking publicly about my recovery. Please click play on the YouTube video above to listen to my speech. You see, prior to the tour I spoke of earlier, there is a presentation explaining a little bit more about Shakti Rising and it's history.  And in the spirit of Valentine's Day, myself, being in early recovery, and another woman who's a mid-level apprentice, were to speak for 2-3 minutes each about what Shakti Rising's Mission Statement, The Heart of Shakti, means to us, and how it has resonated in the different stages of our recovery.

So, to rewind a little bit...Earlier in the day, I was fine tuning my speech, and ended up tearing it up and throwing it away. This is not an uncommon thing for me to do when I'm trying to put the finishing touches on almost anything, I become obsessive about my work being perfect and almost compulsively review it over and over, picking it apart in the smallest ways, until at some point I read it....And it ceases to make sense to me anymore. At which point I have to trash it, HAVE TO, because it's such a disappointment to me to ruin something I've put so much work into by simply trying to make it perfect. Ridiculous, right? Well, it happened. And of course, at this point, my concentration was shot. Of course, I wasn't happy about what I had done, but by this point, I couldn't figure out what was worse...Destroying my work or writing a speech that just didn't feel right with the intention of reading it to others. So, in defeat, I reached a state of acceptance and was able to avoid being overcome with anxiety. I'd figure it out one way or another.

So I got ready and went to Shakti, thinking that maybe a change in environment would help me focus. Try as I might, though, the best I could come up with was some notes, and embarrassingly, they were the most basic of reminders. "Hi, my name is...." "...I grew up in the HeartLand..." "I did a college project about Shakti...." Etc. I basically ended up with 6 sentences written down on the back of my copy of The Heart of Shakti, and I struggled to come up with that much. At this point, I started to feel the twinges of anxiety creeping into my body. But nothing else was coming to me, so I decided my words would have to simply come from the heart. As the time was drawing near, I did a practice run with one of the Shakti staff members. She said it was great, and to just go with it. That it's ok to be nervous, and to just take my time. Not long after that, and only minutes before it was time to get the show on the road, we got the news that I would be speaking alone...

Of course, at that point I got even more nervous, like, REALLY nervous..The other woman that was suppose to speak with me is incredibly amazing at public speaking. So I'd kind of comforted myself with the thought that even if I messed up really badly, it would be ok, because no one would remember what I'd said anyways, good OR bad, after hearing her speak. So now all I had to rely on was myself, and thankfully, I didn't have a lot of space to process that fact, or play out my vision of what could happen and every possible ending/fatal, irrecoverable mistake over and over again in my head, because there just wasn't enough time for that.  And before I knew it, we had moved from the entry way of the Butterfly House into the living room, and I was being introduced to a very energetic group of probably 30-40 people, mostly strangers.

I began to speak as soon as I was introduced, but even before my introduction, as I was listening to Christianne talk about important details like the location of the bathroom, etc, I started to get that funny feeling in my throat, and my eyes started to feel moist. I was about to start crying, before saying even 1 word. It took all of my willpower to NOT let that happen. And when I did begin my speech, I could hear it in my voice, the wavering sound of someone who is about to start crying. But I didn't cry, I started speaking and didn't stop until I felt as though I'd made the point of my speech clear. My nose even started to run a little, like it does when I cry, and I started to feel very hot and a little sticky a few sentences into what I had to say, but I focused all of my attention on making sure that my story came from the heart, and touched on everything that I wanted to say.

When I was done and had exited the room, I immediately started getting a lot of excited feedback. So many people said that I was great, that my story was very moving and beautiful, and a few people even told me that I had succeeded in making Mallory (one of the directors of Shakti Rising) cry. A lot of people told me that I didn't seem nervous at all, and that I certainly didn't seem like this was the first time I had done something like this. So I guess those 2 things can be our secret! But above all of these things, and all of the other nice, encouraging things people had to say to me throughout the rest of the evening in regard to my speech, the thing that has stuck with me the most is a feeling of accomplishment, and even deeper than that, a more developed sense of self confidence and a deeper trust and belief in myself. I was real, I was only who I am, I came straight from the heart with honesty and passion. And it worked out perfectly. What I have to say and who I am does matter....And I CAN do it!

 

Anger

ORIGINALLY POSTED:  Wednesday, January 20, 2010
  

It's 2:25 AM Wednesday, January 20th, 2010....And here I am. The solace of night is comforting, but not as much as usual. Even though late nights/early mornings are becoming less "usual" for me in my recovery, I do have to say. Regardless, I still enjoy this space, on a very deep and intimate level, for what it's worth. Which is still a lot, to me.

Anyways, it's been a while since I have been here, I almost feel delinquent in my participation, and unworthy of posting, since I feel I should be here all the time for the sake of validity or something, I don't know, most likely that's my insecurity echoing around inside my head. I almost always feel as though I am not good enough, for ANYTHING, for one reason or another. Or that I don't do enough to deserve to be heard, or cared for. But that isn't even the real reason I am awake tonight, alone on SR Community.

It's really no surprise to me that I have already spent over 10 minutes typing and thinking on this post, dancing around the subject that brings me back around...ANGER. It's soooo hard to talk about, and even really understand for me. Maybe because more often than actually feeling that emotion, I feel something else. Anything else, really. Where the fuck is my rage, my very real, painful RAGE and ANGER? Why am I so resistant to conjure it, to feel it, to acknowledge, embrace and honor it? I am not so sure that I ever get really ANGRY. Even when I think I should.

More often, like this past evening in Group, I can't process, can't deal with anger. I watched my sisters doing healthy anger practices, I was witness to the beauty and raw expression of women I love and respect stepping through a door, making a conscious decision for change, for something greater. Embracing the strength and courage within. Screaming, crying, struggling, trying, denying only to find the strength to be forthcoming. Embracing the right to change their minds, trusting the process and allowing the women around them to hold space. To give them the energy, the love, the acceptance to commit to a scary, uncertain new reality. That it's ok. It's really just fucking ok just to be with whatever is there. Anything that's there, whether they had deemed it inappropriate or unjust, judgmental or selfish, or whatever else their psyche and all the world's weight may have caused them to labeled their anger. Because no matter what, none of it's bullshit, it's all very real. It's there for a reason. It deserves to be recognized.

And as much as this isn't the point at all, it's everything to me right now. Because in all this, I could feel no anger. I couldn't feel the fire. As the women who are my peers, who are my family, whom I love very much went through this process, one by one, passionately and whole heartedly, participated in this exercise, inspiring and encouraging one another to take the leap of faith by holding space, I held space as well. I wanted to go home so badly. As my sisters, one by one, let out their anger, their screams got more and more distant in my ears. And my heart beat faster and faster. And all I could do is cry silently to myself, the only sound coming from me my sniffles and my tears falling from my down turned face only to land on the cuff of my jeans.

And when it was my turn, when I was the only person left, I couldn't do it. I couldn't find anger. I couldn't even move. When my name was called, I found myself several feet from where I was originally sitting, I'd even left my bag behind, I'd unconsciously migrated toward the door. I probably could have reached the knob without even fully turning around. I couldn't commit, I could barely breathe, let alone speak. And when I did finally respond to being called, my voice sounded weak to my own ears, and I could feel every nerve in my body. And all I could say was that I wasn't going to do it. I would talk to my therapist in session about this, but I had no anger. And I didn't. Nor could I tap into or remember any anger. I couldn't even remember anything that makes or even has made me mad. NOTHING.

First and foremost, I want to acknowledge my main emotion in the heart of the moment. I was scared. Fucking terrified. When people get angry I don't want to be around. I don't feel safe. I feel attacked just to witness it. I'm fucking weak. I'm a big fucking baby. I hang my head, my shoulders slump, my spine grows weak. Grown ups aren't suppose to feel like that, respond like that, aren't suppose to run away. At the same time, I want to acknowledge that the entire time I witnessed what happened, I wanted to run away. I wanted to just get up and leave and it took every fucking ounce of strength to stay. Not because I didn't want to support my sisters, but simply out of terror. And it's not their fault. Of course. I really don't want to seem so fragile that anyone is reluctant to express anything they are going through around me. I want nothing more than to be a pillar for the women I care for to lean on. I want to say "It's ok! I'm STRONG! I can take it! Talk to me! I LOVE YOU!" Because I do love all of them, each and every one of them. And I want to be big, I want to be strong. Pleeeaaaaase!

Also, I felt sad. Maybe even more than I felt scared, I really don't know at this point. Sad to hear my amazing sisters say "I'm angry because I'm not beautiful." Sad to hear my friends say "Why doesn't anybody LOVE ME?" Because each of them, every one of them is fucking perfect. Even now, at 3:15 AM, almost 7 hours after group has ended, thinking about this has me in tears. I don't feel angry at all, not even for whatever has caused them, or even myself, to feel this way about themselves. I just feel heavy hearted, broken hearted, soooo fucking sad that anyone has to feel that way. It isn't right. It's not okay at all. I'm also disappointed in myself. Shouldn't I feel angry? For all that hurts, for anyone that hurts if I can't feel it for myself?

I don't know. I don't know anything. I just don't know. I just ran away, as soon as group was over. I just left I didn't say a word, I couldn't wait to get out the door and go home to the safety of my room, my own very controlled world. Where I can choose what to deal with. And in this very moment, I am choosing to acknowledge my lack of understanding, my disappointment in myself...And in my mind, I keep telling myself that as an adult in the United States of America, an adult who isn't court ordered to be in a recovery program, an adult who's at SR by choice, I have the right to exercise my free will. I have the RIGHT to say no! I don't WANT TO, and I won't!

But is that really serving me?

No....No it isn't, and I'm failing myself. I'm really trying to do the right thing, I'm really trying to show up for myself, for my recovery...But when will I really be able to do that 100%? And until that moment, am I wasting my time? Everyone else's time? I hate failing. I HATE FAILING! It displaces me, failure. It is sad, it hurts, it makes me feel sick. And I feel as though tonight I have failed.