Some days I quaked and convulsed with fear, all the fear I’d never really let myself feel, I let it move through me finally, instead of pushing it away.
Some days I raged at the sky and the oceans and mountains, spoke all the words of the inner child who’d never had a voice before, words that weren’t “nice” or “spiritual” or “kind”, but raw and feral and wild and authentic and thrilling to speak.
Oh, to hear myself speak my own, authentic words at last!
I wept every day for about a year, wept out all the tears I’d never been able to weep as a child, all the tears I had stifled so as not to upset or anger or alienate anyone around me. I laughed like a baby sometimes, giggled until I could hardly breathe, often for no reason at all.
Some days I felt ecstatic joy and terrible despair in the very same moment. I was a glorious mess! A wild, inconsistent, unpredictable and uncontrollable mess! There was so much room in me now. So much life. So much space.
Sometimes I thought I was going mad, with all this freed-up energy moving inside. Some days I thought about checking myself into a mental hospital. But maybe we have to go ‘insane’ to heal. Maybe ‘normality’ or ‘conformity’ was the disease I’d been suffering from my whole life. Maybe the straight-jacket of ‘adaptation’ was finally burning up in a fever of healing.
I was learning to trust myself again. Learning to stay close to my own experience, without judging it, without trying to fix it, without even trying to be free from it.
I was learning true meditation from the fiercest meditation teacher of all.
blakekathryn
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
