follow the flow
a travel journal and photography journey
Fuck transition is hard.
Change change change, and all of the emotional baggage that gets stirred up with it.
The beginning of this new year has actually been one of my favorites in a long time. Absolutely sweet, and vulnerable, and fun, and playful, and fucking delightful. And I don't know why I didn't decide to share anything about that on here while I was in those moments. Probably because I wanted to be in it. Experiencing it fully. And probably because I had originally planned to only write once per week. But clearly this is changing, as I am reminded of the catharsis of writing a journal. And as I am reminded that the journey of life, in my experience, is certainly not linear.
My next post will be about some of the truly amazing things that occurred in the beginning of this new year. But this post is not about that. This one needed to fall out of me now. And there is so much wanting to move through me that I must pace myself--whoaaaa womannnnn--and connect into why I chose in this moment to grab my computer, run into my bathroom, and sit on the floor and start writing.
Anger and Frustration and Sadness are consuming many of my senses.. Hot and Red and full of Pressure that is building and ready to burst. I don't feel that it's in integrity to share the story of what my anger and frustration and sadness are about, because it is not solely mine. But my emotions are mine. And they are the ones that are crying for attention when the stories are giving them nightmares.
My emotions are sitting right now. They sit, and sit, and sit, and some tears come, and then they sit some more. They are not sitting calmly, as it may sound. They sit in places where they wreak havoc but I can ignore them if I want to. They sit in the homes in my body where I have allowed them to get comfy. These places are dynamite real-estate, in the shape of a shoulder, a furrowed brow, a tensed tummy, and likely some other homes that I have not discovered yet. Inside these homes my emotions wait for me to feel them. And I don't mean to put them there...but convenience sometimes takes over.
I know that it would feel really good to go and yell all of this out. To get out into some nature. Somewhere where nobody can hear me. Somewhere where everyone can hear me fuck it. And to allow my emotions to move. Not at anyone. That is not what I want. I don't want to hurt anyone, or cause anyone pain, discomfort, or create feelings of not being safe. But I need my emotions to move and be heard, by me. And they don't feel safe to move here. Not yet. I'll probably do some yelling in my car later. But now, I sit quietly in myself, and breathe into the belly of my flames.
As I write this I am calming. I can sense where much of my story is only that, story. I am reminded of the power of self inquiry... is it true? is it true? is it absolutely true? Of course it's not. My own expectations, and fears, and confusions, and triggers are being tickled with a hot poker that is being held by no-one but myself.
But the feelings are true. The pain in my belly. The sadness in my throat. The frustration around my eyes. The numbing in my feet. The heat in my shoulder that moves in and out of my heart. The overwhelming sense of shaking within me while my physical presence is holding itself so still.
And I remind myself that this is a gift. This, actually is, a gift. The ability to feel.
And as I settle into this reminder, my heart is softening. Ahhhh...and owwww. There is so much in there. And the tears come. And I feel my heart. And it is beating.
And I'm reminded of an experience that happened a few weeks ago...
I was on a 5 day cleanse; a colon cleanse, of only apple juice, supplements and water. It was a fucking fantastic cleanse. Difficult, but worth it for so many reasons. On day 3 of the cleanse I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to engage with anyone. Not because I was cranky from not eating. I didn't feel any emotions at all. My mom came by my bed and asked if I would look at the sunset with her, that it was beautiful. So, because I love my mom, I got out of bed and sat on the porch and looked at the sunset. My mind could comprehend the magnificence of the pinks and the oranges twisted together, the artistry of the shadows folding over the mountains, the whispers of clouds dancing above it all. And I felt nothing. I kept waiting for something to happen inside me, and nothing came. I thought for a moment should I cry? I don't feel happy right now, so am I feeling sad? Is that what this is? But no tears came either. There was nothing.
The next few days I could feel everything. And began to appreciate the opportunity to experience pure Apathy for the first time. Looking back I believe that I was letting go of so much shit (quite literally) in my gut, that a lot of my emotional traumas were moving along with it. And as I was releasing some of the things my body no longer needed, Apathy took over to keep me safe. Or, Apathy showed up as a divine reminder that feeling all the feelings is worth it.
I was talking with Terence about what happened and he said I have experienced that before in my life as well. Yeah, to live life without feeling anything, what's the point? And I resonate with this. The gratitude for every feeling I have ever felt, because it makes my experience of life so much more interesting. And challenging. And beautiful. And...and...and...
Thank you emotions, for being with me. All of you. Every single one of you.