Most of the time I feel secure, strong and unshakeable…but every so often I find myself wishing I could find the right words and then wishing for courage to say them.
Most of the time I feel secure, strong and unshakeable...but every so often my pride, my ego and my narcissism gets in the way and all my childhood fears flood back threatening to drown me as I struggle to keep my head above, just enough to breathe.
Most of the time I feel secure, strong and unshakeable…but every so often I get slammed with the old familiar memories and messages from my past that thrust me backwards and push me up against all my hard walls.
Most of the time I feel secure, strong and unshakeable…but every so often I am faced with my ‘enoughs’, not smart enough, accomplished enough, tall enough, beautiful enough, zen enough, calm enough, strong enough, goddess'y' enough, safe enough, secure enough, loveable enough and so on.
Most of time I feel secure strong and unshakeable…but every so often I feel uncomfortable IN my skin, it feels too tight, as if there is not enough space for me in my own body.
Most of the time I feel secure, strong and unshakeable…but every so often the self-doubt, insecurity and self-loathing returns.
This past week I have been swirling and spinning in the quagmire of my thoughts, searching for some type of a foothold, an anchor to hold me steady and provide a reprieve from the fight.
I have been feeling as though I am too much, too sensitive, too dramatic, too emotional, too uncertain, too scared, too stubborn, too shut down, too tired. I have been feeling as though I may burst into pieces, pieces so small that I could never be put back together.
I have been feeling as though I am in a tug o war in my head, my heart and my body. On the one side I feel my demons, my darkness, my old self and their iron grip on me. I see their nasty, teeth barring determination as they try to pull the other side of me into them. The side of light, hope, love and compassion that only seeks to understand and find peace. It feels as though the fight is unfair, the odds stacked too high.
I have often written about the need to stay open to life’s mystery as it beckons you to discover more about yourself and how life will teach you what you need to learn as many times as necessary. I have found myself unwrapping newly found gifts only to open the box and find the same old trinkets inside. Trinkets from my past that I refused to dust anymore, choosing instead to let the cobwebs of life hide them in the shadows but nothing ever truly stays hidden IF you truly stay open to life.
I have found myself reaching inward and brushing the dust off some of these old, life altering memories. Tentatively at first, ensuring that I can handle what will look me in the eyes again. These old ghosts appeared to grow larger and at first lurch toward me, threatening to pull in, yet they stop just before my flesh is touched. With a step backward and an inquisitive look they seem to sense that I am not the same woman I was the last time we stood face to face.
They clearly see I am still the strong one but they sense my strength is different. It is not a strength that comes from the desperate necessity to protect myself from fear or pain. It is more of a graceful, quiet strength that is willing to sit with these memories, to feel what is necessary to feel for another layer of the shell to break and falls away and a new layer of growth to be built, one that can weather any storm with welcoming acceptance.
They see a strength that is not going to run from the darkness, not going to numb the darkness and a strength that refuses to fight the darkness anymore. Instead this new puzzling strength is one that gives permission for both sides of me, the light and the dark, to sit together in stillness and breathe deeply.
I am sitting there now prepared to listen to the messages, prepared to inquire how we can negotiate peace so the triggers of the past do not cloud my today.
I have been leaning into the pain of what was and purging all the lies from my past that are terrified to let me go.
I hold myself in compassion as I do this work. I hold my experiences in detachment, and recognize it was not me as I had been led to believe. I can let go of more and watch those trinkets of the past start to crumble into dust as I reaffirm my truth.
The truth that I am good enough, simply because I exist.
I am beautiful because of my scars not despite them.
I am and have always been loveable even though others were determined to have me believe differently.
I am claiming these truths, letting them absorb into my soul, seep into my heart, sink into my cells and become a part of who I am and how I show up in the world.
I am enough, I do not need to be fixed or changed.
I am enough and I am worthy of my desires, of acceptance, of held eye contact, of deep connection, of food made with good intention, of time to think about it, of second chances, of multiple orgasms, of saying yes, of saying no, of having my deepest desires met, of being seen fully and of being loved for what is seen.
Most of the time I feel secure and unshakeable. Some of the time I get scared I am broken, but more of the time life reveals much to me allowing the opportunity to let the harshness of life become the softness within me.