Yesterday, I hated my body.
Yeah, I know… be gentle. it will pass. count on change and all that….
Fortunately (for everyone), rage is not a frequent visitor to my house.
Yesterday, every symptom was scratching at my insides for air-time.
Even new ones were creeping in.
It was grey and cold outside. My home was in disarray. Dishes in the sink. Dog needed walking. Appointments needed made. Projects finished in a timely manner.
My body was not precious yesterday.
It was the enemy and I hated her, it, them.
I had no energy to do otherwise so I just let it rip.
Crying, out-loud conversations with God, yelling at my dog (which I am still apologizing for..), cleaning up after myself with hefty doses of resentment and self-pity, covers-over-the-head rest periods, watching myself in the mirror at certain times to get the full visual impact of the rawness of this thing..
I was ugly. And real. And surprised at the power of this sleeping thing in me.
When was the last time you witnessed someone wail?
Likely, in a film.
With all my professions of interest in my transforming self (which are honest)
And the gravitation towards peace, vitality, an inspired life of connection which all seem to come naturally to me;
For all this to have a place in me, it’s opposite must also have a seat at the table…
And there she was- all self-centered, ill-mallered, fierce and inconsolable, dark, and raw- fueled only by fear and fear.
And you all must hear about it because I promised transparency.
It is part of my healing to speak.
I know I am surely not the only one.
Surely, surely not……