The rug is pulled out. I stand on nothing. How can I choose, how can I live? My heart sinks, contracts. My throat tries to close. Tears pour out of my eyes. It’s like falling and falling and falling without ever touching ground. I am terrified because I don’t know.
I don’t know.
I don’t know how to live anymore. I don’t know how to get out of bed other then by obeying to “I have to get out of bed.” I stare at the ceiling and think: “it’s the morning, I should drink water.” That is one of my…
Aggression. Destruction. Out of control. Unreasonable. Not okay.
My guess is that most of you have gone to school. In school, when you don’t speak the “right” answer, you are “wrong”. You are a “bad” student. If you say things the way the teacher wants you to say them, you experience the sensation of “winning” and being “right”.
In school, it is not allowed to speak of something that we do not know, so we learn to be reasonable. To be reasonable, we numb our feelings.
Feelings can be felt from 1 to 100% intensity. The numbness “bar” can be…
Tears consistently throw themselves over the cliff of my eyelids as I shout, “I feel angry because you never listen to me!” My nails dig into the palms of my hands. I blame him. Make myself the victim again. I spin my engagement ring and clench my fists even more tightly.
I get to take revenge now: “You are so selfish.”
I watch my words ravage him. I can sense the shadow part of me — what I call my Underworld — relish in his pain. His eyes cloud over. I sense the wall solidifying itself between us.
Have you ever thought of what it means to be present? I used to think that being present meant emptiness. For 10 years, I was a disciplined Yoga practitioner, pushing thoughts away, emptying my mind.
I built a wall, and put my thoughts, feelings, impressions and intuitions on one side. I put myself on the other side. There! Present. Finished.
Not so simple.
I discovered recently that by emptying my mind, I numb myself. I do not feel anything unless the intensity builds up and explodes in an outburst of tears, anger or stress. …
Forests. Lusciously green, water-dripping, sunlight-drinking, collaborative, air-producing vegetation. Brimming with insects and critters and animals going about, eating and socializing and building nests and defecating plant-food that fertilizes the forests seeds and feeds them all over again. Can you see it?
The sensation of the humous between my toes. Cool and moist. The leaves brushing against the hair on my legs, against the skin of my face, leaving trails of water droplets shimmering in the sun rays filtering through the dense canopy overhead. Yes.
The smell. Oh, the smell of living, breathing flora feeding on decaying organic matter. Of earthworms…