I'm finally starting to learn that when I'm off-kilter, I'm not alone and that there are bigger forces and patterns going on. This past week, for instance, has been pretty turbulent, but at the same time that I'm riding from the crest to the trough to the crest of the waves again, I'm noticing a lot of topsy-turviness in the lives of friends around me. Two different friends ended relationships on the same day, and another friend found out she has to move because the government is buying her land for a levee. Crazy life-changing stuff.
Still, whatever is going on, I need to deal with my own manifestations of this energy of change, and I have to admit to not dealing with it very gracefully. Deep, dark things have been coming up --things left over from childhood that I thought I'd dealt with. Self-criticism and judgement have fueled heavy feelings of worthlessness and sapped any sense of confidence. Today I found myself exhausted and totally stressed out, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Finally, on my lunch break, I went out to my car intending to nap, but as I dozed in and out I decided to contact the soul part of my four year old self, who had recently returned in a soul retrieval, to see how he was faring through all of this.
I found my four year old at a table drawing and coloring (If I remember correctly, this was my Kindergarten classroom). I sat in a miniature chair next to his low table and started asking him how he was doing. "I'm fine!" He said, too engrossed in his artwork to look up, at least until he finished his drawing of some sort of vehicle that I couldn't make out, and held the paper up horizontally with both hands, excitedly repeating, "Brum!Brum!Brum!" as he turned it back and forth like it was flying.
He returned to his crayons as I asked if he knew what was going on. He looked up at me then with this "I'm sorry, I thought you knew" kind of look on his face. I don't recall his exact words, but he explained how these things are coming up because of his return into my life. All the junk that had collected and had basically taken up the space left by his absence, was now being flushed to the surface by his reappearance -- like Archimedes' bath water -- to be cleared away.
I thought about this as he went back to drawing. It made sense. It wasn't easy and, at times, was even kind of scary, but it did make sense. And while I pondered this further I felt a tug on my sleeve. Young Patrick had turned away from his table and, still holding my shirt sleeve in his little hand and looking into my eyes with a total expression of earnestness, he told me, "Don't be scared. I will protect you."
Thursday, May 3, 2012
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