I have been learning how to honor and create space for the pain and hurt that comes from accepting a changed relationship.
(Image is link to a perfect musical track for this post).
This pain does not come from another person hurting me.
It is the pain of allowing myself to resist, and then giving into the resistance.
It is the shaking in my bones as I struggle against a force within me.
It is the trembling of my muscles. The reawakening of my inner-strength.
I feel the remnants of memories hiding within my muscle tissue. I push harder. Jagged, darkness cuts through me. I gasp.
Breath after breath after breath.
I feel it cutting my flesh, like a sandstorm of pulverized bone. It swirls around me. I am nearly nothing.
I push harder.
There. At the center of the void emerges the nucleus of light.
I am nothing but swirling, pulverized bone.
The nucleus ruptures, dead center, eyes closed.
Flutters open
like quiet lightning.
I am holding my breath.
Inhale.
It hits me like a wave, and I fall backwards into a sea of grass and sunlight.
Exhale.
This is the light of intention.
It is the light that grows brighter with purpose and kindness to oneself.
I allow myself to embrace the gentle darkness of resistance.
The light of intention flows through me like a torrential rain in a quiet forest.
This pain is reflection. I am nourished by it.
Through and through and through,
deep within my roots.
❂ Reflection ❂
- What ways do you provide yourself care and nourishment when you are experiencing big changes in your life?
- Do you feel like you are someone who is resilient in times of upheaval? How do you stay grounded?
- What are your thoughts on solitude?
In times of crisis I like to take a walk in the rain... or the snow... or the blazing sun. It doesn't matter.
Struggling up a hill on a bicycle already in the lowest gear, my muscles burning with tension, my breath panting, sweat pouring down my forehead, burning my eyes.
The cold wind biting my nose, I feel the windshield lowering the temperature considerably. The freezing rain has seeped through my shoes, and the pick-up truck ploughing by suddenly is pouring an entire puddle over me, drenching me to the bone.
The sun is beating down mercilessly, making the pavement melt under my feet. Walking past industrial yards and golf courses, lush with recycled water squirting from sprinklers behind tall wire fences is driving the point further home: you got a long way to walk before relief is in sight.
But there is relief, always: There is a warm fireplace to dry your socks, or a cool jug of ice cold cucumber-water waiting for you. The top of the hill is in sight, and as they say in The Crow: "It can't always rain." There is one person just perfect for you, even if you haven't met them yet. And getting there adds all the value to it. Because we all know how it is, being there, without having gone through the ordeal of deserving it.
I read this at the right moment. Tensions dissipated. Thank you Claire.
Meow. You're welcome. :)
@gaman is on the @abusereports blacklist for being a bad Steemian! Bad spammer, bad!