The Truth does not depend on whether or not you believe it. 💙
Something really profound happened this weekend. I said the F word. I said it, without condemning, without being self deprecating. Without drama or fanfare.
Just a word. And, it felt freeing to say it.
No attachment. No story. No thought train.
Just a three letter word. (Nope, not the four letter one- although I do say that heartily and often).
I called myself fat, in the context of body size, my body in relation to the size and shape of other bodies. On other humans. I could hardly believe that I had said it.
Said it without having a reaction. Said it without being in tears. Said it without wishing for it to be different. In that moment, I felt my Goddess, Grandma, Round, Soft, Natural and Strong self emerge.
All of the classmates, the partners, the humans who had used that word on my like a weapon. A weapon that I accepted and thought was okay for me to hear.
Just a word.
I realized in that moment, that I am made of soft silk, and a breeze. In that moment, I realized the truth, that words are just words; and they land softly, as if I am not even there to hear them, and then they float away. Just words.
Just words. As if no history existed with it ever at all.
Which, of course, is the ultimate Truth. No history. A memory trace. Not here and Now.
In that moment, I realized that there were no more triggering thoughts of attack when I look in the mirror, or put on my clothes, or see my naked body. No more waiting for a different image in order to deeply love myself.
It is not, of course, a chorus of angels every time I look, or feel my body in a certain way. However, it is eyes that are more neutral, more detached, eyes that see and accept what Is; without condemnation or longing. Without wishing for it to be different. Just a long, slow sigh of relief for what has been held my whole life, like holding my breath all of those years. An illusion. A false truth.
How deep the freedom of the Ultimate Truth.
I love feeling good. I love feeling really, really good. And, over the course of my lifetime, there have been a variety of ways that I have used to feel good. For most of my adult years, I have chosen some form of being altered as a way to feel good. I have chosen alcohol, marijuana, or food, as my most favorite substances to get me to where I thought would bring more fun, more feeling good sensations. And, I would often choose an overabundance of any and all of those ways to feel good, and end up dealing with feelings of guilt, shame, remorse, or physical discomfort. I related feeling even better with being self indulgent.
As I grow as a human, and a spiritual being, things about me are changing, including what feels really good to me. I have noticed over the last couple of months, that as much as I enjoy drinking wine, or having a pot brownie, that I have been desiring them less and less. And, there is two big reasons for this. First, is that I no longer at this point in my life, feel that I need to use something to numb out, or to take the edge off of my life. And, honestly, I have used anything from food to alcohol in the past to have life feel less intense, less painful. Or, more joyful. I was seeking ways to feel less hurt or more of a high.
The second reason that I have been desiring these things less frequently, is that I feel so great without them. I have been on the high of my life very recently. And, it is beyond anything that I could use or put into my body. It is coming from a deeper truth within me than I have ever been in touch with before. I have tapped into my inner self in such a loving way, that it catapults me into bliss almost instantaneously.
This has not always been a smooth road for me. I have been on it before; attempting to love myself from a genuine, authentic space. Loving myself completely and without judgment, as I am and with no expectation to change in order to give myself that love. But, in the past, I have often fallen short, because my love for myself was loaded with strings attached: I would love myself if I behaved, looked, or was a certain way. Different than who I actually was.
I have entered into a relationship with me, that is truthful and full of love. It has taken literally my entire life to get there. And, it is without barriers to feeling that love, or expectations for me to be or do something different. Of course, I have to tend to it like a beautiful garden, water and fertilize it regularly. Yet, when I do, it blooms over and over again. And, I don’t need to add anything special to it, like a drink, to feel what I feel.
I have entered the most truthful and free portion of my life yet. And I can barely wait to see what might come next.
What I think that I know about life, growth, and evolution, is that I do not let go of things, or surrender, until I am damned good and ready. At times, this can create immense suffering for me; for in holding onto to anything in this life, we suffer. However, I also trust my inner knowing to indicate to me when I am ready to release something that has felt scary to let go of.
Last weekend, I spent some time in West Brookfield, Massachusetts, a quiet, sleepy town that I spent much of my lifetime in. I didn’t live there my whole life, yet it is the closest place to feeling like home to me to this day. The charm and quaintness were only shadowed by the presence there of members of my family. And the house. That amazing, old, character filled, memory laden house. I came to that house when I was only a few months old, and have been physically craving visits in it the rest of my life. And, this week, it was sold to a person that I will most likely never meet, and who will now take it forward into the next phase of their life.
This particular chapter, which was a lifelong one, has been closed. And, I was finally ready to let it go.
Two years ago, that home was still occupied by my Aunt Ruth, and her cat, Josh. Before that, it was she, and my grandparents, and before that, it was my grandparents, Ruth, and her three siblings, one of which is my dad. A lot can happen in two years, and in these past two years, Ruth has died, Josh has come to live with us, and the home that I knew only as hers for more than twenty five years has been sold.
And, I’m good. I am ready to surrender all of that.
When I visited the house last winter, the feeling when I entered it was sharp, biting. There was an edge in it that hurt when I would bump against it. But, at that time, she had only been gone for a couple of months, and everything seemed to still feel sharp and edgy. Being there was a flood of memories, and I spent time sitting in each room of the house, opening closets and drawers, smelling the smells and taking in the details of it as if I had never seen them before. I felt a sense of abandonment, as if I was abandoning it and her, as I walked away that day.
Last weekend, the goodbye was different. I didn’t feel her in there anymore, and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with it being empty. It seemed to have more to do with her flying high, and long gone from the tethers of the physical world. She is so free that she is everywhere. At least, that is what I believe.
The front porch is one of my favorite spots there, and one that I will miss the most. And, although I don’t live in the past, nor do I even focus on my personal history much anymore, I will recall with deep love the times of sitting on that porch, watching people walk and drive by, saying hello, talking with Ruth while the breeze was coming through the screens. One last time, Brenda and I sat on that front porch, soaking up all that had been there. Deepening our readiness for change.
After all, none of life is there, in those four walls. It is in Me.
My young adult son has been going through some deep emotional struggles in the last couple of weeks. He reached a point that felt like a bottom of sorts; a feeling of being in a pit that he did not how to get himself out of. My deep, raw, maternal instincts kicked in, not only because he asked for my help, but because he is my blood, my being, my child. So I went to him, helped him through the darkest parts, and stayed close by to be near as he healed.
At various times over the last two weeks, I have felt like he was a small child again, and I was his protector, his guardian, his mommy. That has shown itself in various ways, in me breaking down in tears as I saw him at his most vulnerable; feeling lost, alone and afraid about what might happen next; wanting to clean his house, buy his groceries, and take care of his every need. I would feel it, resist it, and feel it again. It was like one of the most intense roller coasters that I have ever ridden.
And today, I am getting off.
Today, I go back home to my world, the life that I have built with him, and since he went out on his own. I feel scared, and sad, and worried as his mom. I wonder if he will be okay at moments. Yet I know that he will be. I see him as capable, and free. And I know, that any time I hold tightly to him, or anyone, that is Fear showing itself. And, although understanding and accepting Fear can help with self love, compassion and understanding, I still get afraid. And, I keep going forward. Keep remembering that feeling fear is normal, and that I will always encounter it in my life, I feel certain. Yet, to release it is a gift.
Letting go is always hard for me on and off in my life, with family members, friends, co workers, even in traffic. Letting go has been hardest for me in the last nineteen years as a parent, as a mom. A small being that is so vulnerable that you have to protect them from everything, who keeps growing, expanding and evolving and becoming more self sufficient. More independent. They not only grow up, but grow away. It is beautiful, and scary at the same time.
Yet, in that time, we have built beautiful bridges and structures of Trust, Love, Forgiveness and Understanding. That is what we stand upon now. I have come to deeply appreciate how capable, strong and willing my son is to grow, to heal, to keep expanding and loving himself more and more. And, I will probably continue to have lessons in my life of when I hold on tightly, and when I need to let go, again and again.
This morning, I see clearly the beauty in the Letting Go. The Freedom that it allows us both. The capability that we both stand in. And, I embrace it with open arms.