Breatheintolove’s Blog

for the love of my spirit…

October 1, 2010 at 2:19 pm (Uncategorized)

There has been an allowing at hand. Bringing my awareness to it now, I realize it has been around for as long as I can remember.

It has been an allowing of unwanted hands that touch me and all the while I do not hold them back; of words spoken to me and I do not question their intent; of certain comments or looks that I let take the wind out of my sails and leave me cut off at the knees. I have allowed free-reign to the thought that insists I must somehow justify, over and over again, my existence and I have given permission for the idea that I am simply not seen to sink me while choosing to tiptoe quietly in a way that leaves me wanting to scream.

All these allowances that I have allowed because of the absolute conviction that there is no other option. To do otherwise would be to put too much at stake. Run the risk of not being liked, or loved, say something wrong and be chastised and cast out into the cold. Risk everything I know, comfortable and not, all that is strangely obvious. Even if all these allowances gently tug and pull and fray at the fabric of my soul, it is so much easier to allow the fear of doing things differently to squeeze me into the mould of who I think other people want me to be, rather than to risk being me.

Since I learned to talk… I have agreed to hold back my words. Since I learned to walk… I have done so careful not to tread on any toes. This quiet complicity has been in the ethers of pasts and possible futures, woven into the threads of my existence as if it were me, as if it were Meant To Be. That’s it. No arguing, no question, simply Meant To Be.

And in all the times I have chosen to allow, to smile and say “It’s okay, I’m fine, don’t worry”, to avoid rocking the boat or drawing bad opinion and the untenable possibility of others thinking I’m a failure or it’s all my fault anyway, my spirit has been screaming. Screaming because, whatever heart connection that led to the moment has been lost or was never there at all. The heart left somewhere along the way and not returned to. Left because the conviction dictates that to go back and pick it up would be inconvenient.

Without my heart, my soul, I am powerless. I let anything happen.

Laid bare, held in place, immobile, while those things are said or done that are in violation of who, deep down, I know myself to be. Not being able to move, to speak, while being in the allowance what is, to me, unspeakable. Shameful, literally soul-destroying. It is a feeling that is as old as anything I can remember, one that summons up memories of being buried alive and sacrifice, a feeling that, in all its various shapes and forms and guises, whether staggeringly big or so small I may wonder if it is even there at all, a feeling that has dictated and determined how much Spirit I have allowed myself to be. How much Spirit I have allowed myself to be. How much Light I have allowed to shine.

In all forms, and on all levels – from the obvious physical, sexual abuse, to verbal, emotional, psychic and that which I would barely notice at all, that which is so familiar, so woven into the reality around me, a comment here, or glance there – if I am really paying attention, they are of the same energetic, the one that leaves me with a feeling of being compromised, of emptiness. In the wake of these allowances, come the spirals of despair.

Because, once again they trespass in the name of that which calls itself love, that which I have assumed is love and whose dictates I have danced with and bought into and demanded of others. A love that needs things to be a certain way and for which nothing is ever good enough, a love that thrives on seeing others fail, a love that is not Love at all.

What’s interesting is, these days the moments that trigger this spiritual despair make no sense. I know there is no mal-intent. I know I am safe. And yet there is that feeling of paralysis that is then quieted by thoughts that say, “You’re fine, no reason to make a big deal or offend, it will soon be over and then you can make sure you will never put yourself in a situation like this again. Be more careful about who you trust. Who you open to. Maybe don’t even open at all.” Yeah. “Don’t even open at all.” That’s really the core of it. Get through the moment of whatever is triggering me, don’t rock the boat, don’t do anything differently, don’t risk speaking up or saying anything but just know I can use my discernment, my ever-increasing awareness, to be sure I don’t put myself in situations like this ever again. Be careful. Be separate. It’s the only way to ever be sure.

Wow.

It is so very convincing.

And here’s another thing.

This feeling… the one I describe above, the one of inaction and paralysis in the face of what feels like terror, the one that keeps my spirit effectively suppressed, is similar to what I am aware of experiencing around creative expression.

I don’t know that I have all the pieces in place yet, but here’s what I got so far. I know on an intellectual level that the second and fifth charkas are connected. I know, in women, they share the same cellular structure. I know, when photographed, the vocal cords could be mistaken for a yoni. I have been told these facts and seen them to be true, and now I am coming to have a visceral, in body, connecting-the-dots experience. How this feeling of total paralysis around not only claiming but also celebrating the worth and dignity of who I am as spirit-in-body, singing it from the highest mountaintops, is directly connected with how much I allow my voice to open, and vice versa.

Both are compromised by fear; fear that I might loose out on love or be chastised or criticized, jeered at, or, on some core level, killed.

I can write and write and write, write books and novels and ideas and I can love and love and love myself, loving myself ever and even more, and I can wait for the time to come when I know people will receive all of me with open arms, people who are thrilled and wanting more, people who usher and encourage and finally cheer “you’re good enough and simply must be out in the world!!!!”, yes, I can wait for the time when the ways my brain is looking to feel completely safe and infinitely loved are manifest, completely and infinitely without one shred of a doubt or possibility that it could be otherwise, a world that is kind and gentle and oh-so-forgiving. I can wait indefinitely for this time to come,  writing and loving, but until I choose to EXPRESS, to make a peaceful stand for it, to give birth and let it be know, the circle is not complete. Choosing to know that I am  completely safe and infinitely loved right now. Not by what I may seek to find in the world out there, but within the expansive, borderless world of my inner being. Whether it is my second or fifth chakra, it is all the same, it all comes back to my fourth, my heart. Giving voice to my soul. Yeah, I can wait until I feel safe, or I can step through the rush of my pounding heart and tight throat and set my spirit free.

How many times throughout the ages have I held my tongue, because the very thought of expressing, reading, asking, speaking… makes my heart feel like it will explode out of my chest. How many times throughout the ages have I allowed what I thought I should allow out of the conviction that to do otherwise would leave me with nothing. How many times have I allowed myself to believe, “I’m fine, It’s OK, as soon as this is over I’ll be fine again… I’ll find a corner in which to lick my wounds, put myself back together, read what I have written and celebrate it without having to give it voice, just me…” saying I’m fine with a smile that no one can see through.

Through my voice, my actions, I can summon up my soul.

In Italy last week, David Elliott said again what he has said so many times before, to reach through the fear and choose to express… that’s when it all changes. And although I have ‘heard’ this before, this time those words spoke to my soul. They spoke and, upon hearing them, I made a promise. A promise to honor, in every moment, the voice of my Spirit. My Spirit as a creative expression and also as something of value and worth. Something that has boundaries and standards and does not allow certain things anymore. If  I choose in one such moment to summon up my voice and, at the risk or loosing it all, simply say ‘no’ or give expression to all thay my Spirit has to convey, everything will change. Claiming my Right To Be rather than waiting for permission or for it to feel safe and comfortable for it to be so. Because it is not just about quietly knowing my value, it’s about expressing it too. Taking a peaceful, unwavering stand for it. If I don’t do this, how can I expect anyone else to?

Afterall, these allowances, these compromises of my soul, they can be no more. Let’s face it… when it comes to souls these days… when it comes to Being The Light… compromise is simply not a part of the equation.

NOTE:

A parting observation… a morsel of food for thought… I notice this exercising of expressing my spirit is most taxed, most challenged when I am in the presence of men…. hmmm…. more on that later ~