So this week as I am reading through all my favorite sites, everything touches me and is making me weepy. I did a meditation to connect with Gaia, I cried. I read something Erin Mackley posted, a quote from Rumi, I cried. Something a friend posted made me tear up. I did another meditation to see where my resistance is coming from and following that trail, I cried. I see a sweet animal or baby, more dripping. I see a touching scene on tv and boo hoo, off I go. I am sitting here with the Long Island Medium Show on, bawling as she connects people to their loved ones who have left the physical. This has been going on for several days now. I just feel topped out with emotions and they are leaking out and overflowing, unable to be contained.
In the last reading chat I had with Lisa, she told me that she could see that my heart had cracked open, a big slice had come off the walnut shell and light was spilling out. Well, I feel it. And I keep thinking about the vulnerability vs. weakness post I wrote not too long ago. I don’t feel weak, I feel more open. Holy cow, how the heart is being battered with all this energy. How this translates outwardly to others, I don’t know, but I can definitely feel it.
Last week I wrote my biography, again. I have written it before, and have spoken of it many times over the years to different people, friends, family, coworkers. I wrote it down the first time years ago, every last detail that I could remember, and put it aside, thinking my kids might like to see their mom’s history when I was not here anymore. A few years later, I had a change of heart and decided I needed and wanted to let it go. I no longer wanted to keep it written down, no longer wanted it tangible like a chain tying me to the past. So I took the pages, tore them up and burned them up outside. It felt really good. Now here I am, writing it up again. This time, however, it’s different. I write it with a different perspective than I had many years ago. I now understand how life works when I didn’t at all when it was happening or the first time writing it. Rather, I accepted what happened back then, minus my current understanding. What surprised me was the discovery of unhappy emotional places in me tied to experiences in my past. I felt tears rise as I wrote about them. And was puzzled, since I thought I had let all that go with burning of the words plus all the talking and openness I have always had in regards to my life story.
Where was I going with this? Well, I was encouraged this week to talk to someone about my childhood so I can let it go for good. At this point, I literally have no close friends in my physical life that I would want to share much with anymore. No one is that close to me these days except Erin and I do not want to give her any else to think about right now other than what she is currently going through. My daughter knows pretty much everything about my childhood anyhow, and if she doesn’t, it’s because it never came up, not because I was hiding anything. She even went with me to the meeting ten years ago when I found my birth mother again after 30 years. So I have never hidden my childhood from her. My son knows less, but what man wants to know all of a woman’s emotional life, especially a son, so he is not an option. And I have no desire to share it with a professional therapist. I have to have a connection with someone and definitely I would be very uncomfortable. This is my therapy most of the time. I do have a date to talk to someone on the phone, one of my online friends/mentors, so we’ll see how that goes.
The process to open my heart has been interesting and often full of resistance over the years. When I started this path, I had no clue how closed down I was. I thought I was fine! But I will open it the rest of the way, I have no doubt. Each thing I learn and do, opens it a little more. But if I’m this weepy now, geez, I better buy stock in tissues for when my heart is wide open!