Speaking truth to ... Self
Things I want to write about:
The Movie.
The Dog.
Autumn, Thanksgiving planning, moving to The Boat for the winter.
Things I'm afraid to write about:
The Movie (what if I sound controlling? pollyanna? critical? over-impressed? bitter? sappy-mommy? stage-mother? what if someone disagrees, judges me because of it?)
The Dog (what if writing about the future jinxes something? what if someone reading it doesn't like what I'm saying, disagrees, hates me because of it?
Autumn, Thanksgiving planning, moving to The Boat for the winter (what if somebody feels slighted by something I say?)
I've started several sentences that never reached the keyboard, and then a couple that did - then got deleted. I guess there's more internal churning to do before I can actually speak. This feeling is so strange I almost don't recognize it, but it's been present a lot the past couple of days. Oh, I know: I spent a couple of hours listening to my parents' voices in a concentrated way, and slipped back into a much earlier stance toward the world.
But that was yesterday. I thought it would evaporate overnight, but instead the night was filled with dreaming ... lost objects, hiding from __, chasing and being chased by ___, puzzles and conundrums. Early this morning I lay there trying to reconstruct some of the dreams, but they were fading fast and I didn't have pen and paper in hand.
Maybe at Samhain I'll re-start the practice of Dreamwork, gone dormant these three or four years since the Florida winters began and the Dream Group broke up.
Maybe this morning I'll re-start the practice of sitting meditation, gone dormant since, really, the advent of Darling Dog.
Maybe this morning I'll acknowledge that I've somehow arrived at a place where I have no confidants, only several "almost". This one is always trying to fix me, that one rarely lets me get a word in edgewise unless I'm crying (and sometimes not then), the other one always knows best before I've even said what I'm feeling ... this one doesn't know what to say so stares blankly, that one pushes me to be more 'normal', another one seems like tey'd be perfect but lives too far away ... I can of course talk freely to my shrink or my pastor, but somehow that's not the same thing ...
How did I get here?
Oh, yeah; by always appearing to be calm and centered and getting a reputation for having no challenges ... by always having a strong opinion and getting a reputation for not seeing the world the way 'everyone' does ... by speaking what's true for me about abundance, safety, trust in the universe, and getting a reputation for being blind to other people's challenges and restrictions, for being 'another one of those faith-based church ladies,' for being pollyanna.
How can I get back?
Tell what's true for me in the moment. Share what's churning around inside. Acknowledge that I don't have all the answers but I sure have some good questions. Recognize and acknowledge that what is blithely called "faith" and "trust" are not arrived at by processes like 'convincing evidence' ... and that the divide between people who have them and people who don't is often quite broad, not readily surmounted from either side. Recognize that I have more in common with the Church Ladies of my youth than either of us would care to admit -- our faith and trust and confidence in the universe is very similar even though our theology/thealogy around that is so completely different.
...
I guess I feel a little better for writing something. I wish I felt prepared for the topics that are presently on the surface. Later.
*
The Movie.
The Dog.
Autumn, Thanksgiving planning, moving to The Boat for the winter.
Things I'm afraid to write about:
The Movie (what if I sound controlling? pollyanna? critical? over-impressed? bitter? sappy-mommy? stage-mother? what if someone disagrees, judges me because of it?)
The Dog (what if writing about the future jinxes something? what if someone reading it doesn't like what I'm saying, disagrees, hates me because of it?
Autumn, Thanksgiving planning, moving to The Boat for the winter (what if somebody feels slighted by something I say?)
I've started several sentences that never reached the keyboard, and then a couple that did - then got deleted. I guess there's more internal churning to do before I can actually speak. This feeling is so strange I almost don't recognize it, but it's been present a lot the past couple of days. Oh, I know: I spent a couple of hours listening to my parents' voices in a concentrated way, and slipped back into a much earlier stance toward the world.
But that was yesterday. I thought it would evaporate overnight, but instead the night was filled with dreaming ... lost objects, hiding from __, chasing and being chased by ___, puzzles and conundrums. Early this morning I lay there trying to reconstruct some of the dreams, but they were fading fast and I didn't have pen and paper in hand.
Maybe at Samhain I'll re-start the practice of Dreamwork, gone dormant these three or four years since the Florida winters began and the Dream Group broke up.
Maybe this morning I'll re-start the practice of sitting meditation, gone dormant since, really, the advent of Darling Dog.
Maybe this morning I'll acknowledge that I've somehow arrived at a place where I have no confidants, only several "almost". This one is always trying to fix me, that one rarely lets me get a word in edgewise unless I'm crying (and sometimes not then), the other one always knows best before I've even said what I'm feeling ... this one doesn't know what to say so stares blankly, that one pushes me to be more 'normal', another one seems like tey'd be perfect but lives too far away ... I can of course talk freely to my shrink or my pastor, but somehow that's not the same thing ...
How did I get here?
Oh, yeah; by always appearing to be calm and centered and getting a reputation for having no challenges ... by always having a strong opinion and getting a reputation for not seeing the world the way 'everyone' does ... by speaking what's true for me about abundance, safety, trust in the universe, and getting a reputation for being blind to other people's challenges and restrictions, for being 'another one of those faith-based church ladies,' for being pollyanna.
How can I get back?
Tell what's true for me in the moment. Share what's churning around inside. Acknowledge that I don't have all the answers but I sure have some good questions. Recognize and acknowledge that what is blithely called "faith" and "trust" are not arrived at by processes like 'convincing evidence' ... and that the divide between people who have them and people who don't is often quite broad, not readily surmounted from either side. Recognize that I have more in common with the Church Ladies of my youth than either of us would care to admit -- our faith and trust and confidence in the universe is very similar even though our theology/thealogy around that is so completely different.
...
I guess I feel a little better for writing something. I wish I felt prepared for the topics that are presently on the surface. Later.
*