Wednesday, March 9, 2011

a dark red moment

so i was offered a challenge.

a real challenge.

something hard.
really hard for me.
so hard, in fact, that i 'stepped out' of myself
for a bit.

what does that mean???

i don't know.

i just know when i hit certain things that feel
traumatic to me, i kinda feel 'beside' myself - literally.
like i check out and i'm operating from right next to me.
like i can be amazingly calm when i need to.
laugh at stuff, cook, have normal conversations,
all the while feeling completely like i left the building.

i thought just dealing with what knocked me there was the challenge.

silly girl.

the real challenge came when i was approached with another's
pain. the very person who knocked me outta my self to begin with.

when i saw their pain.
and i had to choose to offer real compassion or to keep holding
my hurt which i really really didn't want to let go of.

holding it meant to me that i could protect myself.
don't ask me to put that down.

don't even ask.

i wasn't asked.

i was just presented with this pain.
and left alone.

doing dishes, i marveled at the whole thing.
i talk a great story about wanting to be love.
oh, i can sit and tell you how much i want it.
i can sit and tell you how much i've worked at it.
but can i sit and tell you i met the challenges
that were really gonna move me along?

i didn't have the logical understanding of what was
going on, but i had a knowing as i did those dishes.
i knew that if i could put my hurt down and hold the other
in compassion, that i would be touching mystical stuff.

i knew that.

cause this is related to my trauma.
and i knew the power involved.

but i wasn't gonna do it.

i was choosing not to do it.

and then something totally unexpected happened.

as i whoosed the sponge around the dish, little terri stepped
right up and said just as easily and happily as if we were
going jump roping 'let's do it.'

that's it.

just 'let's do it.'

and she let go of everything else.

all the pain, hurt, trauma feelings, tears, ache....

let's just go love.


i stopped swooshing the sponge. stood there.
stammered to
what about????

she was gone.
she was done.

if i was gonna follow the time was then.

i followed.

i knew i couldn't do it on my own.
and so i followed her.
she needs to lead me.
and she will.

this morning on the treadmill, i had a new music list.
as i did my thing i listened to that music...
songs that normally i would listen to with the attitude
of looking at people who've hurt me and just saying 'eat my dust.'
songs i'd listen to with the attitude of looking outward.
well that changed.

not this morning.
this morning every single song was speaking to my demons.
every single lyric was being sung to them.

and i was defying them. they weren't gonna hold me back.
they weren't gonna win.

i never worked so hard on that treadmill in my life.

i'm touching the dark red love stuff right now.
the real stuff.
and i figured this out........
it doesn't stop for the demons inside of you.
it goes past them.

i know this is only a moment in a long long journey.
but this is the first moment i've ever won quite like this.
yes...'won'....cause i won something over my demons this time.

and this time...for this moment.....they aren't holding me back.


AkasaWolfSong said...


Anonymous said...

This is what I was sent when I had a "red" moment.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from The Invitation ~
“The personal stories I share here are not important in themselves; we all have a 1000 stories and my life has had no more or fewer than others. But stories, carefully chosen and shaped by the teller and the listener, can open gateways to our interior landscape, can reveal the meaning in our lives enfolded in the details and unfolded in their telling and conscious contemplation….

…The Invitation is a Declaration of Intent: a map into the longing of the soul, the desire to live passionately, face to face with ourselves and skin to skin with the world around us, to settle for nothing less than what is real…. I want to live with deep intimacy every day of my life. I am guided, sometimes driven, by an ache to take the necessary risks that will let me live close to what is within and around me and I’m sometimes afraid that it will be too much, that I will not have or be connected to whatever it takes to be with it all, to bear the exquisite beauty and bone-wrenching sorrow of being fully alive.

The Invitation…

“It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul, if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, YES! It doesn’t interest me to know where you live, or how much money you have, I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here, I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.”

With much care, Cathy