I started writing this last night but I just couldn’t flow, totally wired and trying to come down from the ceiling from an external battle that I’m in right now. I was sitting in front of the screen last night, with a tightness in me and overthinking on what to write even though I knew that there’s so much to share; I really wanted to write as it’s my happy place that comes so naturally to me. Words normally flow through my fingers a stream of consciousness that flows effortlessly like a stream from a mountain top. But this ugly battle is stealing me away from my Self. What does a warrior do when they temporarily retreat from the battlefield? Recharge is the answer but this battle is stealing me of my precious energy, my limited time and dampening the embers of my creative soul. Right now I feel angry and upset but I seem to be flowing much better than I was last night. Something has come unstuck and freed within me. I guess like anything the creative muscle needs to be flexed even in small ways to get it working again. The embers need to be stoked and if there’s a little glow, the glows need to be fanned into baby flames.
This external battle and conflict I’m in right now (which is possibly a reflection of my internal war) is NOT conducive for my healing process AT ALL. I’m trying to heal the trauma within yet I’m putting myself in a situation that is no doubt activating my stress responses which is probably like rubbing sandpaper on my nervous system (which is already fucked from childhood). But I cannot put down the sword yet. It’s forcing me to stay in that cold, hard, lifeless and linear logical space which I hate. It’s a negative, rancid, legal, two dimensional, paper-based sword fight that I’m knee-deep in. Although I’m probably winning that battle, having sharpened my sword, simultaneously, I’m losing my spark in the midst of it all. Trying to heal myself as well as pitting myself up against the legal machine is hurting my soul. It drains me of my life force. The logic overload is malignant like a cancer: it metasizes the more you live in that place, it starts to become you, take over you and it brings with it the death of creativity. And creativity is a natural healer – I know, it was a shaman healer for me in 2018 following a breakdown in 2017. But I’ve had to be overly logic and left-brained for several weeks now (probably 4 weeks) and letting this situation gobble me up has blocked and suppressed the creative flow; it curtails the part of you that wants to flow rendering a dull feeling of flatness and lifelessness from within. Surely that can’t be good for my healing process? I’m not doing myself any favours am I? I’m surprised I can articulate myself this morning after last night’s walking-through-treacle experience, but I can feel I’m still writing with a tense abdomen and curled toes. In fact I often become aware that one of my fists is clenched or my toes are tightly curled and when I do, I consciously relax. There’s a constant anxiousness within me. It shows just how much pent up tension is stored in my body and I’m adding to it with this shitty fight. And when the tension wants to be released it comes up out of nowhere. I find myself suddenly welling up in tears at Zumba and fitness classes that I’ve been going to lately. Perhaps that’s a somatic release of negative energy but its happened a few times lately where I’ll suddenly well up in tears in the middle of an exercise class and it catches me by surprise. I allow the tears to flow though. No one’s watching. The tears create a confluence with the sweaty beads from my forehead…
All I really want to do right now is live a creative life – write, create art, find a place of meaningful living that makes a difference – I believe some of us are here to help one other heal with wisdom and evolve through painful experience. I want to go into nature and spend time sitting on a mossy log (which I did last week) and gaze up at the trees listening to the birds and saying hello to the odd dog walker going by. The peace and solace of just being in nature is like taking a massive mental and emotional exhale. I want to stay there for hours, maybe even take a packed lunch and stay there all day. I’ll do that one day soon…
I should be putting myself and my healing first right now. But I can’t put down the sword yet. I really want to but I can’t. And I don’t know if it’s the child part of me on this battlefield or the adult Self. My therapist asked me this question last week. A battlefield is no place for a child, but perhaps it is her trying to right the wrongs of her life, expressing the rage that she couldn’t express, putting people in their place when once she was a helpless and vulnerable child unable to fight for or stand up for herself? I’m really not sure who is on that battlefield but once this particular external war is over, I am going to put down the sword. I have promised myself that I can’t get into these battles any longer. Surprisingly though I’m learning through this battle to be not so aggressive which is how a part of me likes to behave, like a runaway train railroading everything in its path. I’ve learned patience and a it’s war that’s called for guile rather than firepower; you have no choice but to be this way in any legal battle. Perhaps it is the Self that’s taken the sword away from the raging, wounded child?
Anyway, enough about battles. It’s my creativity lying there latently which is the shaman healer that I really need right now…
If baring my soul to you (and the world) has moved or touched a part of you in any way, then your support would be very welcome. To help me on this healing journey, perhaps you’d like to buy me a coffee (although mines a tea) via the link below:
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