Taking a Bite Out of Life

  

My life is an orange – not a tiny tangerine or a misshapen clementine with its peal practically sloughing off on its own. Oh no, mine is one of those large and thick-skinned varieties.

For most of my life, I turned this orange over in my hand, studying its nearly impenetrable peel with a sense of hopelessness. I studied the bumpy surface, searching for any accessible point of entry. At the age of forty-seven, I finally stuck my thumbnail in and pried the first little bit away. It took me over four years, but a few months ago, the last bit of peel fell away. Finally, its ripeness sat naked on my palm. I reveled in the sight and smell of it, as it rocked heavy and full, in my hand.

The juicy taste still awaits me, but before I can pull a bit off and pop it into my mouth, I see that there are yet the veiny, white remains of the past still clinging to each section. While they are much thinner and less bitter than the coarse skin I’ve already removed, I know I will enjoy the sweetness of the fruit much more without the sinewy chords getting caught in my teeth.

And so I continue. 

I haven’t known what to make of the last several months. It’s been a time unlike any other in my life. Most noticeable is the sense of calm I’ve felt most of the time. Next, is how easily and quickly I seem to be able to return to my peaceful state, even when I’ve been spinning out pretty crazily. After that, what stands out to me is how little need I’ve had to share my creativity with anyone.

This last part concerns me.                 

Since I was a very small child, I’ve felt driven to create. I first played piano when I was three, started lessons at Northwestern University at four, and composed my first music when I was less than eight years old. After the traumatic and sudden departure of my piano teacher, when I was twelve, I never played again... but this did not squelch my need to create. I turned my attention to other things which had often been equally interesting to me. 

Throughout my later childhood and teens, I spent every spare moment drawing, painting, and writing stories and poetry. I shared my creations with anyone who would give me even a cursory glance. My head was constantly overflowing with visions and concepts I needed to express. Images would appear in my mind, representing whatever was going on in my life at that time, and after creating them to the best of my ability, I felt compelled to share them with others. It has been THE driving force in my life, and has always been equated with the words “life’s purpose” in my head.

Then, a few months ago, everything just stopped. I woke up one morning and had no desire to draw or write anything. 

The next day was the same, and the next week… 

Finally I said something to the therapist who I've relied on for so much over the last four years. I tried to explain what was going on, but it wasn't as clear in my mind as it is now. What I said was, "I'm not doing anything," because that’s how it felt. 

When we talked about it, I realized I was actually doing a lot of things… just not anything creative. She suggested that I’ve been pushing very hard for a very long time, and maybe this was just a much-needed break. 

I went with that for a while, but as the weeks passed concern hung in my head like cobwebs.

Is this who I’m going to be, from now on…? And if so, who am I, now?

I’ve always created… it’s who I am… who will I be if this is not me, anymore? 

To prove I could still do it, I forced myself to write something every day. I tried to commit to posting here, daily, but failed at that in short order. What once was a passion had become a chore. More and more, I was wasting time on facebook or other websites, distracting myself in anyway I could from something I obviously did not want to do.

But why?

I can still write. I still have things to say. The images and concepts I’ve always found in my mind are still there, waiting to be given a place in the real world. Yesterday, I created one of those images, just to prove I could still do it. The image I posted here, yesterday, has been in my mind for some time, and I've taken great pleasure from it. I thought sharing it would bring me the same joy it always has, but in reality it didn't feel any more real than it did when it was only in my mind.

What I just realized, last night, is that there is something else I’ve not been sharing. For four years, I shared almost all of my journals with my therapist. Day and night, the thoughts in my head would spew forth onto pages and pages of journals and blogs and posts on other websites. Since there was never any guarantee that anyone would respond or even notice the words I put out into the world, I would also send it to my therapist, so she could—

So she could what? She was possibly the first person I ever met who was willing to look at all of it, read through everything I sent her, and who also seemed to understand everything I said. But, why did I feel that every thought in my head had to be shared? 

The reason seems to be that nothing I thought or felt or knew felt valid until I shared it with someone else. Not one experience felt real until someone else knew of it, and the reason for that is that I did not feel I had any value. I didn't feel real or valid so I needed to be validated by others. My sense-of-self came only from outside of me, and not from within.

 

 *****

Never-Ending Life

Do the leaves that lie broken in a falling snow know that Spring will follow?

To me, the shift from night to day and back again, the phases of the moon, and the continuous cycle of seasons are like a promise of what awaits us, beyond this world. Like the buds on a new branch, we see only the snow, the spring, and the leaves that we bring forth. We watch as our creations grow and change, their full color emerging and ultimately fading, and then that for which we've struggled drops away... turns to dust.

Staff of Life                        ~Shen 11-18-11

Reposting something which disappeared...

I've just gotten back from the retreat and it was awesome. I'll be writing about it this weekend... but for now I'm reposting a photoshop drawing I put up before I left. I know it was posted because I have some comments on it in my email, but somehow the post disappeared... weird, huh?

Anyway, here's the drawing again and I'll be back soon

This is entitled "Somehow All the Pieces Fit"

Imaginal Nurturing - A Whole Other Kind of Inner Child Work

About a month ago, an intense inner struggle began. It was not really something new, but it was the beginning of the emergence of a new part of me. As always, when a new part begins to show up in my life it’s overwhelming and very unsettling. This particular part is still quite hidden,and there is some confusion about her age. There is another part that blocks her and keeps her from being seen and heard… and held.

The “held” piece was the most distressing to me. I didn’t understand why I had this intense feeling of wanting to be held and rocked like a small child. It was a seven-year-old part that first expressed this need but I think she was really reacting to a much younger part - the one who sits alone in a dark corner of my mind. I've come to know this lonely one as "The Rag Doll". 

At first, I had to get myself past some pretty strong blocks to even want to reach the Rag Doll. It’s been hard work and frustration has been the key emotion inside as this blocking part continues to build walls around the one in the corner.

I will likely have to write about this again later. It’s still so confusing in my mind that I really haven’t wanted to try to write about it very much. There are a thousand facets to this, it seems, and it turns over and over in my mind so fast that it makes me feel dizzy when I look too long. Trying to see this piece of me reminds me of spinning round and round when I was very young. After a while all I could see was a pattern of light then dark then light then dark and finally I would fall to the floor in complete confusion as to which way was up.  

Despite the fact that the Rag Doll still sits in the corner, alone, I have made some progress. At least I’m beginning to understand why I have not allowed myself to look in this corner. 

The one who guards her screams that this Rag Doll is not a real part at all. "It’s only a doll, only a dirty old rag doll, one nobody wanted anyway. Don’t even look at her,” she says, “she isn’t real!”

I’ve come to understand that the reason this part does not want me to see the “rag doll” as real is because of my mother’s amazing ability to turn a blind eye to what was going on in our house. If I acknowledge that this part is real, not just a dirty rag doll to be used and tossed in a corner, then I have to also acknowledge that my mother should have known, should have seen, should have been there for me. I can’t see this part as real because my mother didn’t see her as real. If I know then it seems she should have known too… so I can’t know.

Someone to whom I was confiding some of this suggested  a CD by a Canadian therapist named April Steele. The process she uses she calls, Imaginal Nurturing. The CD is called, “I’m So Glad You’re Here”. To read about it on her website, CLICK HERE.

My own take on it is that it is guided meditation which may lead me to self-acceptance and self-love by going all the way back to the baby I  was before life began to tell me who to be.

I ordered the CD but I wasn’t sure what to expect. This morning, I listened to it for the first time, and it was really a pretty powerful experience.

I know that I am easily drawn into hypnotic states and that I fall very deeply into meditation. Even so, I didn’t feel completely as if I was inside the first of the two guided meditations on the CD. I listened to it and focused on it and it was very gentle and relaxing to listen to, but it didn’t really bring me to the place inside that I sometimes can get to.

A short time into the second meditation, I had that floating feeling, almost as if I was dreaming. All my senses seemed awake and I was right there, in the safe place I created in my mind. A strong, calming sensation has stayed with me all day.

This is how I often feel when I walk out of my therapist's office after a DNMS session. It’s as if the part of my brain that is usually awake is in the background and other parts that I am not always aware of have moved to the front of the stage. However, it's different than a switch which comes on due to stress because while more than one "side of me" seems to be awake and aware, they are not vying for attention.

That’s about as close as I can come to describing it.

Right after I did the meditation, I felt a strong urge to pull out my markers and draw. I did this for a while, but I couldn’t seem to get the swirling images from my mind to the page. Nothing coherent would appear. I scrapped that drawing but I couldn't get over the feeling that I needed to create something to hang on to the changes that seemed to be going on inside me. I was not ready to write about it, so I perused images online until I found some that seemed to call to me. In photoshop I combined these images and then drew over them to create the image below.

I call it, “Connections” which is the first word that came to me when I had finished it.

I intend to listen to the CD every day for while because I expect that it may have a cumulative affect on me. I also ordered her second CD, "Adventuring Spirit." I believe the second one moves past the infant stage which the first CD focuses on and it also incorporates bilateral stimulation, which I expect will be much like that which C uses when we do EMDR or DNMS.

I've been looking for something like this for a while - something I can safely use between sessions to keep me feeling focussed and connected. I have so much hope for this CD but as C told me (when I said that to her a few days ago),

"As to the CD, it is not THE answer. Nothing is. It may give you some relief, bu it could also be misused as a way to hide out."

So, I'm very conscious of that. I am going to keep listening to it and keep in close contact with C (as always) and see where it takes me. She has told me she is willing to work with me, with the CD, so if that may be where this goes next.