I wish I were an everyday writer. I
have been writing all my life, but the magic of story telling only comes to me
during a pivotal point in my life or revelations. There’s something magical
about the fire that burns in the bottom of my heart when I decide to write
about what I feel. Maybe it’s a gift. Maybe my sensitivity and openness is a
curse. Maybe it will save someone’s quality of life. Maybe it’s saving my own.
I received a hateful message this
morning on Facebook from a younger cousin who has anger and alcohol problems. I
should be used to the whole slut shaming and virgin/whore dichotomy by now… but
for whatever reason it stung like 10,000 be stings into my intestines this
morning upon awakening. My body began to tremble and my heart race with fear. I
was triggered. That life threatening, survival instinct had kicked in. He
talked about the well being of my child. My child, the only reason I have life
at all right now. The very thing that pulled me from the gates of hell, and
gave me the inspiration to fight mental illness, addiction, failure, and
trauma, was my child. Is my child, I should say. I still fight these things,
but I am WINNING.
Later this morning, I bowed into
myself on my yoga mat in a class of thirty people or more. I have not been practicing
much lately because I have been running from my fear so fast I haven’t been
sleeping well or breathing well. So to finally get on my mat and be fully
willing to surrender my things to do list, my anxiety about money, my fears of
failure and inadequacies, was a relief.
I dropped into my breath over and over trying to let go of fearful or
anxious thoughts… and then it happened. As I closed my eyes and gracefully
leaned in & opened up into trikonasana (triangle pose) my heart
metaphorically ripped right open to the ceiling. Tears trickled down the side
of my face and onto the floor. There I was, shinning brightly, beautifully,
radiantly , and I knew it! This is who I am. I am never the things I fear or
what people have told me. When you are graced with that glimpse of who you are,
the moment that can barely be described with words, the only option in to weep
at the revelation of your own power and beauty. I’ve been running from my
beauty and running from my power because it’s frightening. Frightening to
think, I might just experience even greater love, even greater success. I might
just fuckin pull it off again this whole “after college thing.” The fear that I
will be abandoned by everyone I love if I truly fill my life with what I love
and desire. The fear that if I don’t have another degree or save some children
in Africa, that I’ll disappoint everyone who has cheered me on.
I am so scared, but as I stepped
back like an acrobatic dancer into down dog & whipped myself back upside
down into wild thing… I almost yelled out loud as I said in my head with my
eyes closes, “THIS IS MY BODY. THIS IS MYYYYYYY BODY. THIS IS MINE!!!!! THIS IS
MY LIFE. THIS IS MY HEART! THIS IS MINEEEEEEEE!!!!!” But, I just whispered it
to myself. This is the yoga. It never fails. Somatic therapy. Connection to
something greater. Tapping into power.
I have so much more to say on what
was said in that message & my experience of female objectification and
parenting, but I am really excited about organizing my room right now and shaking
my ass to some dub step. … until next time.
