Only and Always

Last night's Journal:

It was such a hard day, and it was me that made it hard. I walked away from myself. I refused to even look at any of the tools I could have used to move out of the darkness.
I wallowed in it.
The longer I let it go, the uglier it seemed. Distraction became more and more difficult and more and more necessary. There was no way to look at what I needed – even basic needs like rest, exercise and food. Looking even at that shallow depth forced me to notice how sick I was of myself. I didn’t want to see what I was doing to myself.

Now, as I know I can’t put it off any longer, I have to try to look within, to connect. I have to. The temptation to take two or three xanax and wash it all away for the night, is strong. I couldn’t continue this hiding, this self-abandonment, without some kind of outside help, and that bottle of little white pills is only a few steps away. It would be so easy... so much easier that facing the night head on... but it would only make this worse, tomorrow.

I can’t go through another day like this. I can’t let this turn into a week in that dark pit. I never want to go back there again and I’ve been falling into it all day.

The only way out is to look at it, but I’m so afraid to truly connect with myself, much less God.
“Go to the Source.”
I know. I know that, but I am so afraid…
No, that's a lie. This isn't fear. It's pure shame, or maybe the fear of seeing the shame.
Yes - that's what I don't want to face - the shame of who I allowed myself to be, today.

Shame feels like a boulder roped around my neck. It holds me in place, keeping me from moving forward or even looking up.

So, with my head hanging down, I contemplate the choice of trying to drag myself forward with this self-imposed burden, or giving in to ignoring it for a while longer. I always have a choice. I hate that I spent all day making the wrong one. I feel so angry with myself, so disappointed in myself. I don’t want to face it.

Choice.
Choice.
How far are you going to push this? How long are you going to allow yourself to be in this place that you never need to go to?
I want to scream, Stupid! Idiot! What the fuck? What’s wrong with you? You know better!
But that doesn’t help. It only makes the little one/s inside cringe in the darkness. That isn’t who they want me to be - or who they want to be.

The shame of leaving them alone, again, makes it very hard to look at them. I let my physical eyes open and I am once again sitting on the floor of my bedroom, my cards in a pile in front of me. I focus on the CD, the mesmerizing repetition of "Returning." Eventually, I close my eyes and focus on an inner child.
I’m sorry. I see you. I’m here. You are not alone. I’m sorry.
I’m trying to say the right things, but I know I've let them down, and they know it too. It's me I’ve let down. I’ve failed myself. I’m on both sides of that equation at once and there is no one to blame but me. I tell myself I’m sorry, again, but it still feels hollow. I could have said it at nine this morning, at noon, at three or six, but here it is nearly midnight. I’ve let the entire day go in a haze of self-loathing and punishing abandonment.

My stomach turns over, like an exclamation mark on the end of today’s sentence. I don’t deserve to feel good, I think, relishing the discomfort.
Eyes closed, I look for that first sign that there is – even now – a welcoming connection. I try to discern the figure of The Nurturer in the cloudy haze of my mind. As she slowly comes into focus, my eyes burn under their closed lids as I take in her expression of acceptance.
She accepts me, even now – and she is me.
It’s so hard to give myself – my undeserving self – this gift, but I do. I mentally step forward – both giver and taker – into that embrace. I wrap my physical arms around myself and rock, back and forth, as if I am truly loved. Gradually, very gradually, I begin to feel it. I sense both the unconditional love from that part of me who still knows that I have worth and the great need and gratitude of the receiver of that absolute acceptance. I bring these sides of myself together, again.

I rock, hands tightly wrapped over arms.

I feel the presence of The Protector. She is standing behind us. She looks warily around so I don’t have to. I rock for as long as it takes for that connection to become total. I push aside the mental picture of how this might look from the outside, allowing The Protector to watch for me. I focus only on the most inner me – the lonely little child who I’ve neglected today.

Finally, I look for the light which I know will be there - it's always there - but I feel so unworthy. I feel its warmth inside and above me, a radiating, glowing energy. I bask in it, but disgrace still holds my head down.

How can I look up into that perfection when I have so failed, today?

I hold myself tighter within the cloud of shame. I just can't look up. I can't. I don't want that light to shine upon my face, tonight, when I've betrayed myself all day long.

Am I never to allow myself to look into the light, again?

There is so much self-loathing inside me and I study my actions from the last eighteen hours, trying to see which piece is worth this kind of berating. There isn’t really anything that awful to pull out, because there really isn’t anything to see. I’ve done nothing all day.

Not one thing of value. I’ve wasted it all.

Before the self-assault can go any further, I feel drawn to look up, almost as if there is a hand under my chin. I feel a message radiating towards me, around me, into me.

I know. I know. I can’t move forward from yesterday. I can only move forward from today.

I wonder for a moment how long ago I first came up with those phrases. I’ve repeated them so many times, to myself, on my blog, to sponsees and friends, and yet I still forget. I say the words again, out loud, still so offended, so angry that I can know this and still allow myself to fall so far into this ancient pattern.

Then, from above, I hear the word, “No.”
I'm taken aback.
I review where I am, what I was thinking.
I stop. I listen.

“Be done with chastising and criticizing.”

How can I? How can I forgive myself when I make the same mistakes again and again, when even now – after all I’ve learned and grown – even now I allow myself to fall into this dark place?

“Love you as I love you.”
The words fall onto me. I listen with my whole being.
I am loved.
I am love.
I can’t move forward from yesterday. I can only move forward from today.

And then I hear a gentle correction.

“You can ALWAYS move forward from today.”

The subtle difference feels profound. I take it in, and finally, am able to push aside the day I’m leaving behind and move forward. I turn my face up, seeing with closed eyes more than I saw all day with them open.

*****

I spread my cards out in front of me. Almost immediately I see the first and second card I’m to choose. I pick them up and then know the third. I accept the gift with such gratitude and once again I feel unworthy of this kind of connection, this kind of attention. It humbles me. My head hangs, again.

There is no sense of where to find my fourth and fifth cards.

Once again, I lift my chin and stare into the light. I allow myself to see the “eyes” of the Spiritual Core Self – the Source – the Universal Energy – God. I sense that light reflecting from two more cards, and I pull them from the rest, ready now to hear the message of the day.

*****

The first card – the Issue – is Slowing Down, (Knight of Rainbows - suit of the physical world).  The book says, “Meditation is a kind of medicine,” and I know the healing truth of that. The card tells me to enjoy the beauty of doing nothing, relaxing, being restful.

Is that all this day has been? No... but if I’d connected with this energy, before, it could have been.
The little child speaks up and I listen. She tells me she just wanted to watch a movie and color. She didn’t need that much. It is so little ask.

I promise her we will do that tomorrow. I tell her to be thinking about which movie she wants to watch, and I turn my adult attention back to the book. It goes on to tell me a “new quality of stillness” is coming.
The second card is Postponement (the four of Clouds – suit of the mind) This feels dead-on, both because it’s fallen in the place which represents my inner influence and because I drew it last night, making the last reading feel like a premonition.
My mind goes back, again, to the day. What have I been avoiding? I find it very hard to look at it, but I force myself and then I know. I can hardly write what I'm thinking, and I feel embarrassed by the intensity of my fear. I force myself see it, to know that what I'm putting off is inevitable.

It is detachment from C.  I am hanging on with a vengeance, and this two-week period away from her is forcing me to look at my real needs. I know that I can survive on my own. I can find this connection whenever I need it. I don’t really need to have a real-world connection with her every day… but I want it. I am terrified of it going away, being pulled out from under me.

I’m afraid that if I do too well in her absence she will know… and she will take this connection away.

So, I allow myself to fall into these old behaviors to prove to myself - and to her - that I need her. Even writing these words fills me with a dread that seems as old as my soul. I’m so afraid of losing her. I’m afraid of abandonment… and so I’ve abandoned myself. The illogic of it astounds me.

The child inside is crying, and I rock her again.

The third card – the outer influence – is the Major Arcana X, Change. The inner dread intensifies.

I don’t want it!
I’m screaming inside.
I don’t want to let go! Not now. Not yet.
The card says, “If you cling to the edge of the wheel, you can get dizzy. Move to the center of the cyclone and relax, knowing this too shall pass.”
I try to make sense of the words but all I can do is notice the fear – so much fear, so intense. I don't want it to pass. I don't want to let go.

The fourth card – what is needed for resolution – is Projections (the seven of Water – the suit of emotions) The book says, “All of us can get caught up in projecting movies of our own making onto the situations and people around us.”

My mind feels clouded with the fear. I try to interpret this and the rest of what it says:
Own my “feelings, judgments, desires and expectations” and don’t put them onto others.
I can project positive things onto others, as well as negative?

A new concept tries to move into my head, but my fear is making it so hard to see. I wonder what I’m projecting onto C. The book goes on to tell me that whatever I’m projecting onto others is coming from me – it is really mine.

Something loose and hard to hold onto continues to flicker in my mind.

The pieces of others that I want, that are good, that I’m afraid to let go, they could be projections of me. That means I could have those things in me, already. That means even if the other person isn’t there, I can still have these things.

It feels like what C has told me so many times – the connection is always there - but it feels as if knowing this means that something is going to be taken away. In my mind, I see the tablecloth trick. My table, with many place-settings and dishes of all kinds, laid out on a crisp white cloth which is about to be yanked out with such speed that the dishes won't move.

Or will they?

I try to know that the connection will still be there, that the table will still be set and full without the cloth that's held it up for nearly four years... I know it, but still fear its sudden removal.

I move onto the resolution card. It's Major Arcana III – Creativity.

The book tells me that everything I do, when it is a joyful attempt to “express what needs to be expressed” is Creative. I feel as if this definition of Creation deserves a capital C. It is not those things we create to make money, to impress, to gain something. It is the Creation of genuineness, of reality, of truth.

“True creativity arises from the union with the Divine.”

*****

I put the cards away, knowing I haven't gotten all I could from them. So much of it feels elusive and while I try to hold onto it, but it's like trying to capture helium as it escapes from a balloon.

Even so, I’ve taken the first step out of the mire which held me in place, all day. I feel as if I can allow myself sleep. As I arrange my pillows and bury myself under the comforter, I give silent thank-yous which don’t seem nearly enough.

*****