Avoiding the Fire

I have been avoiding writing today.

I'm not sure why because the thought of writing is actually rather exciting. But somehow, tidying up and mowing the lawn have been far more 'important' than sitting down at my computer.

When I find myself avoiding in this way, it usually means I am afraid of something: procrastination is a great defence against actually confronting/ doing/ feeling whatever it is. I know that since I joined Twitter and Facebook last week and made myself more visible, I have felt less inclined to write. The terror of being seen is so great that, even though this blog is anonymous so no-one actually knows who is writing it, I can still feel the fear of being judged, criticized, mocked or put down in some way.

I find it fascinating that my sensitivity about this runs so deep that, despite my anonymity, I am still afraid.

There is only one way to combat this which I have ever known to work. That is, to move through the fear by doing what it is I am afraid of.

Last week I wrote about anger and how I had decided to make anger my friend. It is amazing to me that it has already started to make a difference. I felt very angry over the weekend. After a while the feeling began to fade (as feelings do!) and I realised that I was trying to hold onto it: to stay feeling angry. And the reason for this was because I was not only enjoying feeling angry; I was reveling in it!!

Anger felt delicious to me! Wow! It coursed through my body, filling me with a sense of strength, power  and a mindset of "I can do anything". (I can see how anger could be addictive!) In the mix was also a sense that it could descend into aggression because I could feel in my body something like "Grrrrr.... Get out of my way". However, the enjoyment of this fire was so great that the hint of destruction soon melted and instead I was simply left with that feeling of power. It seems to emanate from my stomach and liver, that power - the centre of my torso (or solar plexus chakra for those of us that way inclined). And also from my diaphragm - as if my body is giving breath to flames of passion that can erupt up and out into expression through my voice and arms.

I know I have kept that fire hidden for most of my life. Sometimes it has even seemed to have gone out for short periods. This past week in making friends with my anger, I have given life to that fire again. I have given myself permission to fan the flames and add more logs to keep it going. It is the fire that made me write today, in spite of the fear - in spite of the uncertainty of what I was running from and therefore what I could write about. It burnt up the fear and used it for fuel in order to find its way out and into the world.

It is my fire which has found its voice right here today.

Love to you,

Lyra ♥

Memories

I have been looking at old photos today. I have lost myself in a sea of memories and thoughts about the past. I am struck by two things in particular.

The first is the loss. My god, there is so much loss. So many loved ones who have passed away. Too many to count on both hands. And yet here they all are, smiling up at me from paper records of happy times. And that is the second thing: joy. There is so much joy in those faces and the memories they stir in me. I feel so lucky to have had so many beautiful, loving and inspiring people in my life.

And every picture which came up of my stepfather was met with a pang - of fear, anger, hate, sadness, disgust, shame.... So many feelings. And I am loathe to admit to the fact that at times when looking at pictures of my siblings, I was working out in my head whether it would have been taken before or after they were abused. The horror that brings up in me is so unbearable. To see the beautiful innocent faces of them as young children, knowing what was in store for them just a few years later.... The pain in my heart is, well, I don't have a word for how much it hurts.

I knew it would be like this. It's why I procrastinated about going through the photos for so long. I was scared about what it would bring up. But perhaps it is just time for these things to be felt. It is as if, every time I feel these things, a new layer of it is uncovered. A new depth but also a new release. The balance of pain and relief brings a kind of 'calm after the storm' feeling. I don't remember where the idea came from that you do not feel or experience anything you are not ready to feel or experience when it comes to healing. Perhaps that is true. With each day, I grow a little stronger and heal a little more so, when the pain comes, it is a little more acute each time - because that is what I can bear. But the relief from feeling and expressing that pain is also stronger. Wails of despair turn into huge sighs of gratitude. I am grateful that I am no longer in that despair on a daily basis. I am grateful that I Can feel - that I have not turned off my emotions because they are too much to cope with.

All of it somehow brings me closer to the truth. I know the truth of what happened and yet knowing it in my head and being able to admit it emotionally - to really feel it - are very different, I have realised. And each day such as today spent feeling the pain, really moving through it and coming out the other side into gratitude, is a day that is enormously worthwhile. Because each of these days brings me closer to myself, to my humanity, and closer in my connections with the people who matter most to me. And that is, to me, where true joy lies.

Love to you,

Lyra ♥