Rescued By Destruction

It has taken me almost a year to make the decision to blog about this.  It has consumed my life in such a way I found myself unable to share too much publicly.  I also found that I may have used it as an excuse not to "show-up" for my own expressions, to live out my inner world creatively. That- for an artist, is a torturous and lonely journey.  I somehow allowed this to negatively impact my work, my life and my health.  I allowed...yes I said "allowed" this experience to dismantle it.  I gave it permission to tear it down to the grain.  I surrendered into destruction because I needed it and because I had nothing more to give.  I had no overflow to share with anyone.  I needed this for myself, for my own healing: my most selfish act for the sake of transformation.

#52journeycards, the journeycard project 2014

Heartache is awful, but experiencing it and feeling the feelings is crucial.  Last year around the same time, a very important friendship suddenly shifted in an unexpected way.  The tide of it, dramatically changed and left me feeling overwhelmed with loss and rejection.  I admit I obsessed about the validity of the reason(s) for how it came to be in the first place.  I tried to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it and how to fix me, but I couldn't.  No matter how many times I tried to piece together the scattered bits, the wind would rush through to serve as a reminder that: this was not going to be fixable. 

This was one of those moments when you question yourself.  Those questions that scare you and challenge you to get real.  

Yeah, those.  I began to wonder if all the self-work I'd done was even worth anything, because this...this situation makes me feel like crap.  I wondered if I was healthy-minded to begin with.  I even thought I might be crazy and have been oblivious to it the entire time.  I doubted myself.  So, what happened next was my "spiraling out of control"...

• I was willing, in my codependent ways to take all of the blame even when I knew this wasn't even true, nor necessary.
• I experienced anger, but suppressed it.
• I punished myself with negative thoughts about who I was.
• I became self-absorbed in my obsession to fix myself.
• People around me got tired of hearing the story.
• I overate and I ate unhealthy.
• I gained weight.
• I cried a lot.
• I checked into therapy.
• I started working the 12-steps.
• I painted my sorrows away and made lots of art.
• I worked with healers, shamanic practitioners, spiritual counselors.
• I disconnected from so many things.  Things that brought me joy were to painful to do.
• I isolated.
• Can we say, self-loathing?  Yeah, that was happening too.
• I worked through anger, resentment, blame, shame and ultimately forgiveness came through like a clean rain at the end of a drought to redeem.

Forgiveness is something I continue to work with today.  It is all I have at this point.  I believe in forgiveness.  It is powerful and I embrace it ritually.  It heals and moves emotions that may have been stagnant.  I am still healing.  My health and physical body are in recovery.  Realigning the physical with the light body sometimes takes some time and patience, some whispering and gentle drumming to guide you home.  I am still practicing forgiveness.  I am honoring my journey and giving myself permission to try again.  To start over.

I reached the bottom of this intense drop-off and heard only my breathing, and then a soft voice whisper, "it is done, you made it."

Transformation wears an invisible cloak.  It is a master of disguise.  It comes in with a fierce fire and exits with a soothing rain.

 One thing I know for sure is: "It" never stopped holding my hand.