Just a bit o' waxing philosophical...
I had a great conversation with a friend last night. She said she really loved reading my blog; she loved my perspective and my writing style, but...
(You knew I was going there, didn't you?)
But reading it was really triggering her fears.
I have actually had this feedback from a few friends; that it is graphic for them, that it makes them feel vulnerable & uncomfortable at times, that they feel the essential human fears very clearly when they come here.
I asked her what fears she was finding herself in contact with.
The fear of death.
The fear of cancer.
The fear of disfigurement
Some of the bedrock.
So, as I love to do (and she does, also) we explored each idea in a long & rich conversation.
At the end of the day there is no formula for integrating these basic human experiences, but the main thing is to stay in relationship with these boogey-men. Don't run from the room, don't give in to pat answers, don't be afraid to feel what you feel.
We both talked about the illusion that we all live in that "everything is ok". That sounds fine, even desirable at first blush, but the idea itself has, often, some trembly inner trepidation that no, indeed, everything is not ok...
That the world is painful and challenging in myriad ways, that the unknown happens all the time, but most of the time "the unknown" happens on TV or over the water cooler or on an internet posting.
As long as (fill in your blank) my health is fine/ the kids are ok/ I still have my job or house or spouse, then I can face anything.
That is where we accidentally have kissed the flypaper in a big, old passionate way.
Because Life will have its life-like way with us, and one of our constructs will be shaken or crumble without warning. When that happens we come face to face with the truth.
This is impermanent, unknown and powerful, this life.
And everything about this life is wild and precious, sometimes intimidating, often exhilerating...But it's not me.
The mind's first panicky response is that this must be a lie.
Even if it true, then I cannot stand in the face of this.
If my things of beauty or people of beauty are taken away then how can I go on?
Then the mind collapses in a quivering, helpless, sobbling heap.
That's a good thing if we can just stay with it.
Here's what I have noticed. That everything we call emotion has a sensation.
We know this~~ the knot in the stomach, the heart on fire, the numb head, the legs like jello~~but then we try to think our way out of that. Even after we know that we cannot, the decades being the merciful and repetitive teachers that they are.
We try to understand, to talk ourselves out of it, to rationalize, to categorize, while we take medicines or substances or yummy treats to make the sensations abate.
Never going to happen. They keep bringing us home to the body no matter how hard we have our hands pressed to our ears, chanting La-La-La I can't hear you!!
So. Just feel what you feel. Don't label it or try to understand it. Just feel it.
And then...notice that there is probably a stream of words happening in your mind, even unintended.
Notice, but don't invest. Let them become the background traffic noise while you attend to sensation..
Sometimes amazing things arise.
Maybe I can't think of Skye's mastectomy in detail because it makes me feel shaky in my diaphragm...like I felt when my kitten BooBoo was run over...but they told me not to look, and not to cry because BooBoo was in Heavan now..and then mommy took me inside and daddy went outside & BooBoo was gone when I went out front later...and I could never talk about it...
Shaky diaphragm feeling + story + never being allowed to feel what I felt = a trigger for trauma later.
We all have a trunkload of these experiences,personal & intimate & largely hidden. The concept of feeling them only feels scary because we haven't had the resources to feel them before.
But you have the resources now.
If my journey is uncomfortable for you, I would encourage you to stay engaged with the mystery of that discomfort. Therein lies the key to freedom.
I have the car completely waxed with Philosophic.
Buff it to shine, sweetness.
6 comments:
Skye, so eloquent, enlightening, embracing... you are a master of words and obviously a brave warrior of life! Love you.....
i admit it is uncomfortable for me, but there is something sacred in that discomfort. this is real. this is not just a pink ribbon tied around a tree or stamped onto a box of candy. this is life and all that goes with it.
xoxo
Amen, Debi. I agree wholeheartedly.
Years ago I bought a pictoral book of women post mastectomy or lumpectomy, reconstructed or not. Their eyes, radiant, purposeful, sometimes defiant, are much more real & meaningful to me than a book bag with a pink ribbon on it.
yes, i agree, the discomfort may be there, but pretending it doesn't exist will never erase it.
i guess we do all bring our own baggage to the party, whether we are conscious of it or not. but sometimes it is better to use that suitcase as something to sit on while you listen to someone else tell their story, open their bag. i try to do that when i come here.
the goddess speaks. i bow.
Beautifully said Skye. Beautifully said mrs. mediocrity. We certainly DO bring our own luggage wherever we must go in this life. And when we love someone we get the opportunity to open that luggage and FEEL something. What a gift! Yup, I get to feel something because of you Skye. Thank you. She said as she squirmed uncomfortably in her chair; grappling with the *uncomfortable*. I love you woman.
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