The process of resurrection is a slow, steady, revealing and often times, grueling process.
Necessary, but, as with all excavation, time consuming and often gut-wrenching.
The only way out is in, as we all know, so why do so many of us run away from the answers inside? None of us want to dig up those skeletons for a closer look. We bury them as deep as we can so we can’t ever find them again, so they won’t come up and remind us of all the things we’d rather not remember. The parts of ourselves we’re ashamed of, embarrassed about…those awkward phases, those rejections, those failures.
Why would we ever want to uncover those blemishes and scars? Why, when we’ve worked so hard to build skyscrapers and monuments and cathedrals to rationalize them and make them seem like they never existed, like they’re not an essential part of what made us who we are?
What we forget is that this mining brings us back to ourselves when we’ve lost our essence. When we find ourselves starting over again from scratch, wondering where the fuck to even begin putting some semblance of our lives back together, knowing that we can’t put them back the same way; knowing that what we’re facing is the creation of an entirely new puzzle, an entirely new map to follow; a new set of rules to not just abide by, but to formulate. Or better yet, no rules at all. No rules, new game, new life.
Stepping out on your own for the first time isn’t as glamorous as it seems. I’ve always wanted to live alone, have my own space, do my own thing, answer to no one. I thought about the amazing space I would create, the radiant, successful, independent woman I would be. I saw all of these things, but I didn’t see how I would make all of it happen.
So, I freaked out and pulled myself in a million different directions to avoid the task at hand. To avoid this massively overwhelming process, I ran, ran and ran some more—ran to friends, ran to work, ran around the neighborhood, ran to the gym, ran everywhere except this new place I was trying to make into a home.
I gave myself a window of four and a half to five hours of sleep a night, sleep that I knew would be broken because well, I can’t remember a time when it hasn’t been. My brain just won’t stop. Maybe that’s a bi-product of being a writer, an artist. I know plenty of creative people who suffer the same issue. But it’s been taking on a new life of its own lately; it’s raging at a new level. So much buzzing, buzzing, buzzing. My brain doesn’t want to, or better yet—know how to—shut off.
The buzzing is trying to figure out what I should do, how I should make ends meet, what I should be doing with myself, what I should be creating, who I should be reaching out to in order to pull everything together, make everything right. Create that picture in which that beautiful, strong, capable, independent, successful woman thrives instead of merely survives…on her own.
I had some energy work done this week, and not surprisingly, one of the areas that was blocked was my sixth chakra—my third eye. I told the practitioner about the buzzing, about trying to figure everything out, about trying trying trying. I’m always trying. I don’t know how not to try. I never stop trying, never stop working, working, working, even if I’ve lost sight of what I’m working towards. I’ve been in survival mode for as long as I can remember, and it occurred to me that I don’t know what it is to not stress, to not always think strategically (well, my idea of strategy, because I suck at it in the traditional sense), to not always think in terms of how I am going to get from one day to the next in one piece.
When we’re constantly thinking in terms of survival, we block of all energies that allow us to thrive. We’re constantly in a state of lack; we’re in panic mode. We never truly relax, which means the mind and body are all-a-buzz. Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, and blocking, blocking, blocking all of the thriving, abundant energy that is always available to us.
So, how do you break free of this all-too typical paradigm and shift?
You let go.
“So let go. Let go. Jump in. It’s so amazing here. It’s alright, ‘cause there’s beauty in the breakdown.”
~ Frou Frou
Stop trying. Fuck it. Fuggedaboutit. Know that as long as you’ve been doing the work, as long as you’ve been planting those seeds, they will come to fruition. Know that the more you stress and push and push and push, the further and further and further away those seedlings will be from blossoming. Everything needs air and space to breathe, so allow your hopes and dreams to breathe. Allow everything you’ve asked for to come to you by simply backing the fuck off and letting it do what you’ve asked it to do.
Know that you are enough and that you’re doing enough. Know that most often, what you need will come to you from the most unexpected places, so let go and let those unexpected miracles unfold and deliver their bounty. Create, release your energy, and let the goods roll in.
Spending time alone and resurrecting those brittle skeletons will give you a chance to not only smooth out the edges, but give them back to the earth for some real rest. Because once you’ve come to peace with reconciling who you were, who you thought you’d become and who you actually are, you will find the point at which your life truly begins.
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Ed: B. Bemel
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July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. How to Love a Woman who Scares You. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. An Open Letter to the Fixers. How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. How My Sister’s Death Transformed my Self-Perception.