What If?

 

The light is shining so brightly these days

Upon my very soul

I’ve been moving furniture

Out of my temple and into the yard

The furniture looks like crap

And dammit, now it’s there for all to see

*

Inside my soul is dancing

Something is alive and celebrating the demise

Of the hiding from light

Of the believing of lies

Of the self-created stories that turn into nightmares when I am pretending I am separate

My soul says YES

Even as my eyes release tears and my heart is bursting

Even as I rage and try to convince my lover that I am too difficult, too complicated and too damaged to love

He sees me in a different light than I can see myself

A thick cloud of doubt surrounds me sometimes

When I get very, very close to someone

When I begin to feel trust

My guards want to protect me:

Scared Sally, Angry Annie, Jealous Jenny, Distant Deb, Hateful Helga

The names help **

I say “hi”

I say “Will you walk with me, stay close, but let me handle it this time?  I know you want to protect me.  Thank you so much for arriving when I needed you, when I didn’t know how to handle the obstacles.  I have learned so much since you joined me, though.  I think I know another way now.  You don’t have to leave me, you don’t have to die, just rest now, here – inside my heart.”

And I walk in to his life

And I connect

And I am so close, so close

To peeling back a thick layer of protection that looks and smells like jaded disappointment and cynicism.  It’s heavy and cumbersome, but also familiar like a childhood blanket

I want to open this door, and let all my love pour out onto him

Into his life

Into our moments

Into something real that we are creating

The question for me is “What if?”

Because I’m almost there, but not quite

Maybe I’m someone

Who needs more convincing, reminding and reassuring than others

And maybe

I’m just right

*

 

** The book The Dark Side of The Light Chasers by Debbie Ford speaks extensively on loving our shadows and self-compassion.  I highly recommend it.  The naming of my shadows comes from that book, and I find it to be a very useful tool.

 

Oh, Intimacy.

Intimacy.

It sounds so appealing, doesn’t it?   Enticing.  Fun.  Close.

Sexy.  Safe.  Secret.

Fantasy made real.

But then there’s the uncomfortable feelings that might occur.  Like fear and insecurity.  Or jealousy.  Issues of control.  Attachment.  Need and want.  Vulnerability.

Oh, shit.

It’s one thing to send someone a sexy photo of some naked portion of your body under just the right light.  It’s another to stand naked with your feelings and thoughts in front of someone without playing games of shielding.

For me, stepping into intimacy has been a slow journey.  I learned to hide early on, to transform myself on a superficial level to accommodate the external world.  I learned to be a yes girl.  An actress in everyone else’s story but my own.  I picked up on cues… what will make them like me?  What will make me acceptable?  How can I get the attention I need?   With men, I shared my body, but not my truth.  How intimate is that?  Not very.

None of this is unique!  A common, common story.

I denied myself food, and pleasure, and fun, and self-love.  My breath was shallow, my thoughts were often shallow.  My sense of suffering was chronic.  The paradigm I believed in depended on my oblivion to what it was that I actually wanted to experience.  My “want” was insidiously driven by the power of external validation.  The story of chasing my worth outside of myself, looking for love while holding my breath, is long and sort of boring.  It’s a story of false starts and dead ends.  A story of resisting my own knowing.

Intimacy is like waking up sober from your own thoughts, your own story.  It is the is-ness that is here now.

Intimacy has everything to do with honoring what feels good rather than what looks good.  Living without the story of some external reward or external validation, I am free to realize that breathing feels good.  Listening to my body feels good.  Self-love in its many forms of expression feels good.  Following my intuition feels good.  Not rushing to decide, respond or act feels good.

When I am free from the story of what I should or should not look like, feel like, accomplish or gain – I can look around with fresh eyes at this world that is truly, constantly, my own reflection.  I can move from that place.  I can smile first, or love, or hug.  I can receive.

I can say yes, gladly and honestly.  I can say no, simply.

Oh, Intimacy.

Dare I approach you?  Dare I let you in?  Dare I sit in stillness and ask the question: “Who?”

Who is having these thoughts?  Who is watching them?  Who is feeling the emotion?  Who is observing the feelings?  Who owns the sense of lack or want or need?

Who is chasing?  Who is forgetting and who is remembering?  Who is breathing in?  Who is letting it go?

Ohhhh…

So close, so intimate.  So completely woven into the tapestry of our lives, our stories.

Who is weaving?

 

Namaste.