Well! There’s nothing like a pantload of good old-fashioned emoting to really get things going and clear a room!
Or—alternate opening—that sure was cathartic!
So, uh, yeah.
So while yes, the post two down from this one was terribly cathartic, a part of me really really wants to delete it. I grew up in a family that wasn’t all that comfortable expressing emotions, and while I am filled with and gushing emotions, apparently, I’m not so good with the aftermath. It’s a little embarrassing, actually. The vulnerability. Even though I loooove the vulnerability, I am still terrified by it.
And what better way to be vulnerable than by blogging, which is this surreal semi-anonymous way of being very public?
(Have you ever stopped to think about that? I mean, I adore that aspect, the anonymity-that-isn’t, the wanting-to-be-public. But it’s not exactly like real life, is it? Or…is it?)
So while I felt I really needed to express all that, and wanted the naked vulnerability of it, a big part of me thinks I should only present a perfect face. I mean, in blogging there are warts and then there are WARTS. And you make a choice as to which ones you show. But I have various reasons for wanting to present certain aspects of myself publicly and not suppress but simply not make a big deal of others. A lot of people read this blog who know me in other venues, where I’m regarded as someone who knows or at least has access to some enlightened-type information. And are the warts really compatible with that?
I believe, though, that we all are perfect as we are (though I fully acknowledge that we’re also in a state of change). So accepting and acknowledging the aspects of me that I’m less than comfortable with, and even going so far as to LOVE them, is to me a good thing.
So I’m bringing all this up not only to talk about that elephant I left hanging here, but also to talk about how I moved from being so caught up in that dark place, a place that frankly I thought I had seen the last of so it took me by total surprise, into the state I’m in now, which is still somewhat fragile and raw but feels far more real. I’m telling you this partly because I think maybe other people can relate to it, judging from the kind comments that came in, and partly because I want to remember it myself for the next time.
There’s no one key thing, by the way, if you’re looking for that. I would be, so I’m just being up front about that.
Well, no that’s not quite true. There really is one key to it.
Allowing.
But I’ll get into that in a bit, because while it’s the key to moving out of that dark state, I’m not sure if it’s the place to start.
Rescue Remedy. If you don’t have this, check at a health store and keep it on hand. When my panic at being in that state-of-pain grew great and I thought I was going to actually jump out of my skin (it’s not just a phrase! I had NO idea!), I had the presence of mind to remember this and take some. There’s no instant effect, though I would have liked that and half-expected it even though I totally know better.
But it allowed me to hear a couple of things going on in my head: “music” “movement”. So I plugged in the iPod and cranked it up. I wasn’t ready for anything so joyous as movement (after all! this being-in-pain thing is SERIOUS BUSINESS! THERE IS NO LEVITY!), but that did come eventually. I allowed the music to take me places and to support movement, not of my body but of my emotional state.
I knew I was dealing with old old patterns of thought and reaction here, which had been a terrible concern these past several days. Would I NEVER move past them? Was I ALWAYS gong to be stuck going round and round?
By acknowledging the patterns without judging them I could see that having those patterns present was okay and in fact was but a step of moving through them into not needing them any more. Which in turn allowed me to feel grateful for them. Which is when a lightbulb went off: gratitude.
Allowing gratitude for what terrifies us.
Which allows acceptance. Which in turn defuses the pain that has taken hold. Simply by allowing it to be there.
See? So easy. [cough] No, really. Oh, and thanks, everyone.
So we’re cool.
September 25th, 2007 at 2:31 am
Has far as the post you are talking about, what’s a blog for if not to write the things we need to write, not just the things we want to?
Glad you’re feeling better.
September 25th, 2007 at 9:41 am
I’m glad you’re feeling better, and that you took the vacuum in for repairs. I’m one of those people who has a hard time putting the WARTS in blog form. Kudos to you for doing what you needed to when you needed to.
September 25th, 2007 at 10:40 am
I think writing and sharing are the best ways to release pain, so I’d say you just go girl. I’d rather read an honest blog than a boring one.
Good to hear you’re doing better.
Karoliina
September 25th, 2007 at 5:14 pm
Delete it? No, it was wonderful! Actually, deleting it would probably be pointless since those thoughts are already part of your Being, a part of those who read it, and even a part of those around you who may not have read it. To me, that post has a particular feel or energy to it that I call Journey. By expressing your feelings with that intensity, you create movement and arrive at a new version of YOU. The amazing thing (to me) is how that movement seems to affect everything and everyone around us.
Your heartfelt feelings are anything but warts and I assure you that no one reading this would think otherwise! After all, if you didn’t know the feeling of “so fucking lonely”, how would you know the Joy of Eric’s hand touching your head and his heart touching yours. Yes, you ARE perfect – you are simply trying out a bunch of imperfect feelings to see how they feel. The hardest thing (for me at least) is experiencing feelings and not completely BECOMING them, forgetting all else. It seems you can speak about things intellectually over and over, but then suddenly feelings just pile on and bury us 10 feet deep. Later on, when we realize how far we emotionally just “bought into” the whole moment, we may get annoyed or even angry because we thought we KNEW ALL ABOUT THIS! THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN ANYMORE! I expect this happens to just about everyone. Don’t you expect that Buddha must have had at least one crappy day?
As far as the public aspect of blogging, I think it adds to the overall energy of the feelings being expressed, as writer and reader connect in a kind of synergetic push/pull. I really appreciate the courage you and others show by sharing these feelings and I believe that you’ll find more and more readers will be looking to do the same as time goes by. I believe that the Internet, with its blogs and social networks is anything but an accident. It’s absolutely front and center in this co-created reality, as the people of a maturing World scratch away at the separation between them.
RV
September 25th, 2007 at 11:10 pm
first… glad you are in a different spot and enjoying many insights!
second… what i’m enjoying is the re-remembering
(uh… do two “re’s” sort of cancel each other out… so that now there is just a member… of a club… of a whole… oh stop it, get to your damn point, cyn!)
yeah, what i’m enjoying is gnawing on the truth that
we all have warts
and we all have access to enlightened material.
what’s so damned funny is that we forget one or both of those truths.
and it’s the forgetting that makes it risky to share either your warts or your enlightenment or….
SHOCK AND AWE
both at the same time!
)))
but hey… every damn wart on my being is like a little shasta of enlightenment.
every wrinkle.
every sag.
every insane act i’ve ever done and they weren’t all a long time ago.
every pimple of loneliness.
every boil of rage.
every blotation is a rotation of my own darned heart.
but yes, i know exactly what you mean.
people get distracted by either my warts or my wisdom and sometimes they have a hard time realizing it’s that my warts that have made me so wise.
why else do witches have them, eh?
with empathy -
and hey – dancE!
cynzim
September 26th, 2007 at 10:31 am
Hi Karen,
I’ve just found your blog (through Jennifer GG’s), and I’m really glad. I’m also glad you did not delete the posting. As someone who has suffered through such moments (all too recently), it gives me a sense of community (to use a cliche). And I appreciate the reminder about the Rescue Remedy!
I hope you will check out my blog sometime, too. Write on!
September 26th, 2007 at 2:40 pm
I’ve often wondered whether I could just drive off and abandon life too… But I don’t think anyone really does that – and it would just create a completely different set of problems, harder ones to solve. I’m glad you’re back in a good place. And I’m glad you shared.
September 27th, 2007 at 10:06 am
i just wanted to add this from my shower mullings yesterday
(moving water or moving my own body are where i get my insights)
i was thinking about my single mom of four friend. her oldest two are now 18 or over, the younger two in highschool.
her single mom adventures started when the youngest two were 9 months.
she went thru incredible challenges and i don’t use that word lightly. no, no, no. some hard, hard, hard, hard stuff.
i have noticed… thru our years of friendship… that it’s always after some super hard crap that she or i will deeply feel that absence of a partner.
it isn’t that the rest of the time, we don’t desire one… we do. but after yoiu hvae sat with yoru kid in the hospital or gotten lice for the zillioneth time, you get worn down. you get tired. you long… just as you said… for tenderness.
and all those feelings come flooding up and it’s overwhelming.
so i was just thinking that yoiu hve had some crap to deal with… like the pin worms… and the vaccuumm!
(which i can’t spell, btw)
and…
so…
it makes sense.
that’s all.
not that the feelings weren’t indicative of some deeper truths or needs.
just that they are part of an ebb and flow and reflect not just the deeper needs but also the circumstances that brought them to the surface.
just thought i would share as that is what i have observed in my own life as a single mom… and in my friend’s life.
i hope you are getting a lot of TLC in all the best ways.
cynzim
September 27th, 2007 at 7:47 pm
I struggle with this ALL the time. For me, I let the shit hit the fan and then mop up only what I got wrong. The rest of it can fester.
September 30th, 2007 at 5:50 pm
Glad you stayed brave. YOU are cool; me, that’s still a stretch.