I am so ready for spring and the promise of a new beginning. I have lovingly tended my seeds, seedlings and now healthy plants for the past several weeks and that has kept me grounded while my inner self has struggled to shed an outdated layer of woundedness. It's been a tough haul, but I sense the light at the end of the tunnel.
Often, the light has come in the form of outreach from another: the skilled ear of my spiritual friend, the surprise e-mail from a dear, old friend alerting me that we share a common condition, the unexpected call last night from another wonderful, longtime friend checking in, a girls' night last weekend, the tender hug of a daughter and the deep compassion of my spouse.
So the difficult work of identifying and cracking that layer has occurred and, with it, amazing insight and opening. Yet, somehow, I can't quite entirely shed it. It's too deeply imbedded in my psyche and identity, so even though it may be physically gone [though I am not so sure] the memory of where it constrained and constricted me remains.
The layer now has a label, betrayal. And often betrayal that happened so unnoticed that I didn't have time to respond. The urge to respond is what swirls, grasping at the old shell. I am learning that even if I were to counter, I likely will not receive the acknowledgment I desire. And yet that urge persists. The urge to name the transgression – particularly a very recent wound, which precipitated all of this deep and draining work – out loud and for somebody to take notice.
With each betrayal (and I thank my spiritual friend for pointing out and naming this pattern ... I was wrestling in the dark with something I didn't understand], I gave away a piece of myself, diminishing my wholeness. I must regain what I cast off, which I am beginning to see is my power. I GAVE IT AWAY. It was not taken, but given.
Which means only I can reclaim it. In a sense, it has nothing to do with anyone else and everything to do with myself. I pray for the guidance to tread this path to health and wholeness.
• Can I now name something that's tugging at me from deep down?
• If not, can I ask for the fresh eyes of another I trust?
• And if I am able to identify that which holds me, how can I let it go – really?
• What resources must I muster to complete the task?
• What's my specific prayer?
imbedded and encased around myself
the it that has held me captive
isn't so much an other-created wound
as my lack of trust in myself
to give myself up and away
at the mere hint of hurt
bringing that to light
frees me to examine
the wound more closely
that I have been holding
no more, is my mantra