Okay Laura, are you ready for this? I am not sure I am. But I am going to try. I feel so so much better since talking to you. I also spoke to EK and I feel better from that too. In a different way. I do love him, I just have to figure out how it is all going to work out. I think my view of love now and how it can be in a relationship is actually quite limited, so let's work on that first.
I keep thinking about how you said I am soft and juicy and mushy. And every time I think about bringing that into the world (like now) my eyes well up with tears and I can almost feel the Amy that Is trying to get out, even though she is so scared. My God, how can there be so much fear in this 5'1" body? Why do I think it is so much better to be hard and crispy than to be soft and mushy? Because I had to be hard in order to survive the parental onslaughts I fielded on a daily basis? Probably. It is a challenge for me to think of myself as soft and mushy and that makes me cry too. Okay, I feel myself popping out of the feeling space and into analytical space. I don't really want to know why it all happened, I just want to get my soft chewy center. Until I do so, the Universal concepts I so wholeheartedly believe in will remain just that; concepts. I want them experientially. So I need to find my authenticity in order to fully feel how unreal it all is. Oh, I love how puzzling that sounds because I understand all of it. Now I want to be it.
I am not sure how to be my funny, wise-cracking, cool, loving, empathetic, try anything, sweet, huggable self. Some of those words feel a little uncomfortable to wear. I guess if I can start seeing myself as that, as I really am, maybe I can start to believe it. So can I ask for your help? Will you be my word-mirror? Can you offer me a few more words (you have already shared juicy, warm and soft, 3 of my trouble words) that you see me as? Cause I know you mostly see me better than I see myself. I don't mean this in a pedestal way, I mean it in a reality way. As I write this I think of a nickname given to me in Jr High by my friend Larry. The name was Mole, because of the mole on the side of my face. I called him Florence (feminine rhyme of Lawrence.) Anyway, it strikes me that moles are blind. They bumble around underground completely blind, but I wonder if they even know they are blind. I mean, if all moles are blind, how could they ever know any other way to be? I think right now I feel blind, but I have recognized blindness is not my natural state. I am still a bit afraid of the brightness of the light I can now see, so I feel hesitant.
I want to bring my light out. I want to be warm and soft and mushy, which I always thought was someone else and not me because I was too tough for that. What if I actually am the kind person I always thought everyone else was? What if I am the person other people come to for a hug, for a sense of comfort?
Amy who is going into permaculture like a mole; blind and not recognizing it as a problem.
What is this?
My whole life has been a training ground for my work as a therapist. I have transformed the ugliest hate into the most powerful love. Here is a peek into my personal process. My fear, my shame, my judgment, my heartbreak, my criticism...and more. I promise you, I'm okay. And you will be too.