Month: July 2020

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I am an Instrument

Recently I had a really good talk with a beloved friend. I had said something along the lines of I’m usually that person that will bring something to someone’s attention, but I rarely get that same. And she said… “let me be that for you right now”.

Ask and you shall receive.

I have never felt I fit in anywhere. I’m reading Braving the Wilderness by Brené Brown, and it’s exactly the medicine for my heart right now, and it’s perfectly geared towards the pandemic. She’s ahead of her time and I am of mine as well. No wonder we can’t find anywhere to belong.

I spent most of my life afraid of myself, a robot or an alien. My recent realization is that I am not those things.

I am an instrument. And as one let me be the cello, the piano, the violin, and the guitar. I have always wished I could be watched for the concerto of creativity and warmth I can cultivate in a client session.

Lonely oh so lonely without being seen as we all want to be. But lately I am seeing myself.

In my life because of scarcity every time I am meant to be an instrument maybe just in a small dose, I go all in always with my own need and it muddles things. I do have my own needs but I was always meant to fill them with source, my own source not someone else’s. So I’m not left hollow and wanting and internalizing exactly the opposite beliefs about my self.

And yet it’s this very suffering that cultivates the level of compassion needed to change the world. And yet what an overwhelming task. Who am I to and how am I to change the world? Is it one person as a time as I’m doing now, especially beginning with myself?

What is my task?

My life need has created this constant cycle of deep attachment and bonding only to part ways. I think I was never meant to attach my whole life all those times. The person and I were meant to cross paths, healing was meant to happen, but that didn’t mean that everyone you come across you try and create a life with.

Family, making one, being in one, was my unmet human need. So everything became about that. If there is an unmet core need it will continually trump anything else. It will override logic and create a lens that makes everything look one way, but not clear.

Three or four years later the water calms and clears and then restlessness and chaos ensues because I don’t have the answers.

I was trying to fulfill my destiny without any solid ground under my feet. The solid ground became the priority and I missed so much else.

However if we use faith, this says that everything is exactly as it should be and no horrific harm has come, and everything will be ok, especially me, and my tender worn out heart that has been through the shredder as of late.

There are no victims and no perpetrators, no us and no them, no sides. There is only the fulfillment of ones own personal destiny.

And everyone’s is important. And mine is a slippery one to nail down. It comes into view in brief moments, beautiful, and then everything goes dark and I flounder again. Lost and found, lost and found.

I am not an alien, I am an instrument. It’s overwhelming being an instrument with no map or music. What kind am I? What am I supposed to play? Especially when I can’t carry a tune, but perhaps that level of self doubt is outdated, if not entirely human. More human than human. Imposter syndrome at its finest.

I think I’m finally ready to accept I am an instrument and there is more to life than my frantic search for belonging to a person, like that will solve everything.

When I read Brené I am envious of her Steve. Of their dialogue and support of one another, and their journey, and taking the time to understand the other. The discipline and self-awareness love demands.

I want those things, but those are not for me to create. I have other things to create and perhaps that is where and when I will be found/and find someone who wants to do life with me enthusiastically and being willing to show up, the way I am for them. With my mistakes and all because there are plenty.

So much of the reason my path has been as it has is being revealed right now. I have been gifted so much love in so many corners of the world. I was moving too fast to feel it before. But now it’s wrapping me warmly. Coming out of the woodwork and showing up.

Whenever I come into contact with someone they react or connect to me. They feel my presence and I can make a lifelong friendship from one conversation in the car. The feels almost beyond my comprehension. I have had to weed out all the critical thoughts about how wrong this is. Especially in Connecticut lol. Stay in your own lane.

So out of balance with my confidence and my own need, my gift always gets confused and then causes chaos. It hasn’t been properly channeled because it has had to come together, and I’d like to believe it couldn’t come together without the exact path I am on.

So I can forgive myself for my sins.

Everything is a blank canvas right now, but this time I know I am the pen.

On being an instrument

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Fault Lines

“Sweet dreams are made of these and who am I to disagree. I travel the world and the seven seas, everyone is looking for something.”

It’s funny all these years later this song lyric is on my mind this morning. I have always loved it. I wrote it as my tagline for my original live journal, the birth place of blogging. Foxfire_1 I was ahead of the times and didn’t even know it. I always felt behind. Story of my life.

I am visiting Virginia and a home of a family which contains one of the key players in my life. Now they have all become key players, they are stitched into the fabric of my being. My mind is swimming with thoughts as usual and as usual I am trying to untangle some of them.

It’s an interesting mixture to be both a deeply feeling person and also a scientist who studies the humans. The only way to study me as thoroughly as I would like is to see myself through the eyes of others, as well as by learning from watching the many ways people do life. There are so many ways to live a life. I look around my environment in their home and marvel. I take things I want to emulate and I notice things I might do differently.

One thing I’m learning about this visit is it is one of the Hallmarks of great friendship that you help the other see themselves with a balance of generosity and also clarity. When done properly you have a powerhouse of a friendship that can make you both better. Both my friend and I tiptoe on eggshells in certain ways, but not the bad kind.

The bad kind is fear someone will blow up at you because you’ve hurt them in a way you didn’t even realize you were doing. This kind of eggshells comes from two people who have turned sensitive from the many ways they were harmed in life. This is the good kind of eggshells, and the remedy is trust that is built from being allowed to share with the other what is seen, and that the other translates this through a filter of love, rather than judgment or criticism. Not an easy task when the topics are on raw hot nerves.

For as long as I can remember this woman has been teaching me about being a mother, and a friend. She’s much better at it than she realizes, and I’m sure the same could be said about me. “We never know just how we look through other peoples eyes”, a lyric from a strange song on the Dumb and Dumber Soundtrack, because movie soundtracks were always a thing for me. So of course I had to look up the song, and it was as bizarre as I recalled. Pepper by the Butthole Surfers. LOL.

The lyrics so appropriate though in so many ways. I listened to this song in a cabin at outdoor school. It was the olden days when you actually had to carry a pile of cd’s and a discman anywhere you went. Our generations equivalent of walking to school six miles uphill barefoot in the snow. Kids these days cannot imagine the horrors we were subject to.

“They were all in love with dyin’, they were drinking from a fountain
That was pourin’ like an avalanche comin’ down the mountain

I don’t mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows
I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes
Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies
You never know just how you look through other people’s eyes”

We always have adventured together. Why do we adventure with other people, but then fall into depressive ruts when left to our own devices. Or is that just me?

We fall into deadly routines and forget to be alive while living. This friend of mine and I always wake one another up, but then we tend to drift apart and go right back. When you look from the outside it appears she adventures on with or without me, but then don’t I also? I don’t know since I can’t see myself from the inside. My adventures might just be different. Typically inside the minds and lives with others rather than feet on the trail. Maybe I need more of the latter. Or maybe I don’t. I don’t know.

By adventuring I suppose I mean having the motivation to do something out of the ordinary and then having the means and resources to follow through on that. I get daunted so easily it often takes another human being and a large leap outside my comfort zone to make any of this happen.

But the ingredients to have an adventure are quite simple. It’s the process that’s complicated, because it takes so much more energy to do something different. Paradoxically it also breathes life back into you. I am at a place in my life where I could use all the life breathed back into me I could get.

I was standing by my coffee maker this morning, impatiently waiting, as it dripped the steaming juices of life into my new favorite mug. And I closed my eyes and imagined what it would feel like to have someone I loved come up behind me and put their arms around me and rest their chin on my shoulder and just stand there. Holding me. It’s been so long since I’ve been held emotionally or physically. This is something I’ve fashioned my whole life around making sure I had an ample supply.

I never imagined myself being in this pandemic lacking human touch the way that I am now, and perhaps only slightly more important than touch, communication.

Anyway if you want a clue to knowing your unmet needs, notice where your mind goes when it wanders. The benefit of all of this is I realized it doesn’t kill you, and you can adjust to anything, but why would you want to.

Then I think about those that have been together for years who take those touches for granted, shy away from them even, or are so depleted that they feel like more work, an obligation. I think about the seen and the unseen. How much of the inside of people’s lives we know nothing about. We only see the surface unless you get up close. I am fortunate enough to be up close anywhere I am because people allow me that privilege and I earn it by being a safe space.

To see things with new eyes we have to get outside our comfort zones in healthy ways.

It isn’t always easy to find ways to do this, especially with the put your nose to the grindstone mentality, and all of the stresses life can throw at you. Like many a crisp new white baseball with its brilliant red stitching, launched at 60mph repeatedly from a ball thrower. That’s likely not the technical term 😉

Most people don’t even know the power they have to just switch the machine off at any time. Some cover themselves in padding and continue to stand there, some leave the stadium, the self assured believe they can just duck and weave armor less, the wise ones know how to find a delicate balance of all of it adjusted to timing and life circumstance and keep improving their technique.

Visits between our families include warmth, food, shared responsibilities, adventuring, pitfalls, moments of overwhelm and irritation for any given member, laughter (so much laughter), light treading, hard treading, growth, learning, and so many things I could not contain them in a single post.

One of the most special things about all of this is that it’s the product of the meeting of myself and one woman, when we were both such different versions of ourselves. Everything between us now has taken on such a new life of its own and there are so many new players since the beginning. In the beginning it was just two very lost young women each with a little boy and a husband that was not meant for her in one way or another.

Between then and now we both have acquired and lost, succeeded and failed, in a variety of ways. And yet we can still come together all these years later and know this is a special friendship that is meant to withstand the test of time, no matter how far we each travel on our own in the interim.

I am so blessed to have so many friendships like this. People who enrich my life and who I can connect with. People to share in the joys and the sorrows. People who are willing to pick me up when lately I fall repeatedly.

It is so shame filled right now. It’s not something noble or uncontrollable like cancer. This is suffering at my own hand because of my personal landscape and humanity. They are showing me patience and grace. They are loving me for free, and while probably being very frustrated at seeing someone function at such a small portion of their capacity. That’s the harsh version, the soft one is, it’s hard to watch the ones we love hurt. But eventually if you do the same thing over and over that grace turns to frustration.

They love me anyway…. they love me anyway…. and isn’t that the best kind of love.

Except when it isn’t, and that is the very difficult part right now. Sometimes loving someone anyway with faith and hope for someone they are not yet is an act of courage and worthiness, and sometimes it’s an act of self betrayal.

Sometimes faith is an act of betrayal.

When given blindly without evidence or reason, it can lead us to places we never want to find ourselves. I never imagined myself looking around thinking how did I get here. Not with all the self awareness I possess. It isn’t enough apparently. You do have to use logic to choose what is healthy and what isn’t no matter how you feel. This being one of the hardest lessons of all.

I like to learn my lessons the hard way that is for sure.

Oh the fault lines that are within me.

The Weakness in Me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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We Bounce Forward

So today I’m at the Honda dealership waiting for a new AC condenser to be installed. I am reflecting on my very first blog post ever, written in Ansonia at a small coffee shop waiting for my Jeep to be serviced. I’m at another full circle beginning of a new life so it’s appropriate and poetic.

I need to find my way back to me, my writing self, my heart. Also though you can’t go back to something you never started with. So perhaps I don’t have quite the right calibration on the wording.

Because we don’t bounce back we bounce forward (after a hard hit) according to the great Martha Beck. So this is completely uncharted territory and that brings with it absolute terror. I’m trying to find enough excitement to balance it out to become unfrozen so I can budge.

A whole new world and a whole new me. I didn’t want either of those things my toddler whines. I wanted the comfort of the known, to be held softly at night while I sleep, to have the routines I am used to, to see the smiling faces of my children feeling secure and loved in as far as I’ve gotten towards those things.

Which was not as far as I believed. That’s a stunning realization.

I’ve been traveling the dark wood of my own soul for around seven months now. My life and my self is unrecognizable now. I have soared to the highest heights and crashed through the earths crust and straight to the center of hell. I’ve been bathing in flames lately, not the soothing water I had found.

Another death and rebirth. I am finding there are hundreds of those across a lifetime, not just one or two.

I am breaking another generational curse right now. This work is not for the faint of heart. I do it so I can be a beacon of light for others. For my family, my friends, my clients. I lose myself so I can find myself again so I can know.

So I can I know what’s on the other side, the inside, the depths. So I can be the tour guide on inner journeys.

But lately I’ve become stuck when the work involves needing to play and rest. I don’t know how to do those things by myself apparently. I know how to show other people. I can do this work when my nervous system is calmed by the steady heartbeat of a lover. I become my full self.

But left to my own devices I freeze. It’s a shame filled thing these traumas. You don’t end up working like you’re “supposed to”, and finding compassion when compassion isn’t what saved you, is nearly impossible: truly.

Could I really have been running all this time in one way or another …. is that really possible? Half dissociated and half frenzied running. Love is the only force powerful enough to slow me down or wake me up, but sustaining it like this became another matter. Add another layer of shame.

I have been running and when my feelings catch me, it is a storm. The degree to which I feel things is unreal. A product of the battle to keep my feeling parts, when it was unbearable so long. I was fierce to keep them, even though they end up burning me alive.

I long to put this way of living down. It’s too heavy. I am in this process. Putting down an entire way of living is like not have any skin to protect the nerves, the air hits them and the pain is excruciating. Every day for me is like this right now.

Eventually the battle breaks you open into your heart, and the space where it’s soft. Where you’re your full light in the world and love doesn’t feel so hard anymore. It’s something that flows naturally.

I cannot run anymore. I cannot default. None of my tools or tricks work anymore.

Naked and still….

Ps. Today is a very special day in a place of my heart that isn’t allowed to exist right now. So keep me in your warmth please. My heart is raw there.