“We really needn’t waste time explaining ourselves to or digging for answers in the minds of those playing in the sandbox, when our essence of truth lies on expansive beaches amongst the shifting waves and the microscopic brilliance within each grain of sand.” ~ Elizabeth
I’m not sure I’d like to visit that place anytime soon. That space between worlds where rage springs forth from raw, open wounds. Somewhere between hell and somewhere beyond heaven.
It’s essential though to move forward, to bring forth change, to transform and to grow into our true potential, divinely so. The trick is not to become institutionalized in the process.
A month ago, defeat sifted through the air around me, hovering like particles in a cloud, raining down ever so slightly. I had given up on myself once again…or at the very least, I let myself down. From that day, rage, anger, resentment began to simmer onstage, until it finally erupted and blindsided me for the rest of the month.
I never acted on it, but I was close. I have to say. And that scared me. It scared others too. This isn’t me and I don’t know where it’s coming from. I didn’t have the stamina to dissect the emotions, as I was too busy taking this out indirectly on others in my way. However, looking back on my writings, and how I managed to contain myself and speak clearly, confidently, steadfast and firm … I am left astounded, as there was much truth to what I had to say. I believe anyway. And I know for fact that I took people by surprise. It’s kind of like operating in stealth mode…silent for much of the journey and then strike.
One piece in particular… no, two come to mind. One was an automatic writing that came out of nowhere. I wasn’t even deliberately free associating, consciously. That seems very contradictory. I just started channeling this conversation in my head. It’s called, Dismantle. I read this tonight and I completely forgot I had written it. In fact, I disassociated for a brief minute, wondering who wrote it and who had access to my account. Yet, I can recall everything about that night and how it all began on the corner of my bed. I began to unravel where the spark had been lit,
The other piece came 3 weeks later, where I took to the soap box and climbed on top to shout out to a flawed Mental Health System, revealing my long-held resentments and opening up larger gashes in my soul…leaving myself to bleed disgust and hatred for blatant abuse. Yet, I composed myself and I like to think of that moment in time as a righteous anger where much good had come out of it as I shared with like-minded folks online. The piece was titled Bypassing Pathology, Kundalini – Chaos & Completion.
This piece, in particular, struck many chords and opened up a flood of response and what I considered to be worthwhile and constructive conversation about the state of Spirituality and Mental Health. I truly detest the word illness or disability, this is why you’ll rarely hear me say it. I don’t consider it an illness, a detriment nor a disability. In fact, despite some of the discomfort, tremendous growing pains and stigma, I still see it as a gift in many ways.
In any case, many in my direct care sounded the sirens and torched the search lights when I opened up to them about my anger and rage. Note to self and a word of caution to many – be careful who you tell. I am learning now to keep mum until I further investigate where the visceral response to pain is coming from, personally. I need to learn to decide for myself, before I search out answers from others who would just never understand.
Even then, I will bounce these ideas and notions off the heads of those who have walked before me. However – We really needn’t waste time explaining ourselves to or digging for answers in the minds of those playing in the sandbox, when our essence of truth lies on expansive beaches amongst the shifting waves and the microscopic brilliance within each grain of sand.