Sunday Scribblings #17 - A sinking feeling

"Can you describe how you feel?
I mean how you really feel.
Not in your mind, but in your body.
Where in your body do you feel that?"

I am in the middle of my
therapy session. Generally I find
this $100 weekly expenditure
to be a good investment. But this question,
this very challenging question,
is relentless. Week after week, I
am forced to investigate the landscape
of my body, a painfully disquieting practice.
Before answering, I contemplate.

"Ummm.....".
The response always begins this way.
I'm desparate to avoid thinking about this,
and yearn to make a run for it.

She sends an empathy cringe, sensing my discomfort as I shift
in my chair, swinging my crossed leg wildly.

"Where do you feel it in your body?"

The truth?
Nowhere.
I panic,
hastily scanning through my numb body
dreaming of a sudden sensory awakening.

I don't want her to know that I have
no way of answering her.
Nothing below my head knows how to respond.
She might think I'm dumb.

Eyes closed, my focus shifts inward.
With intensity I slowly draw in a bottomless and bountiful breath.

And then my belly beckons.

Hand drawn to belly, I can now answer.

"Here. I feel it here"

She nods, acknowledging the magnitude of my self-discovery.

"It is deep.
Dread.
Doom.
It is a sinking feeling"

Sunday Scribblings #16 - Dear Diary

What's the use of keeping secrets?
Some profess the power of The Secret.
You know what? If it's so fucking important, why is it a bloody secret?
Talk about the privledged "in the know" crowd.
Segregating success through limiting knowledge.
(I can swear liberally in my dear diary, and my dear diary will not label me a "potty mouth")
Me? No, I believe secrecy is cover for defensiveness, shame, dishonesty, disillusion.
Dear Diary,
there are no secrets in my world.
When I can't share verbally what I can while writing,
I pass my diary around.
Anyone who really needs to understand me can read it.
Volumes and volumes about me.
My diary is a snapshot of what it's like to be me.
Filled with streams of consciousness, noteable quote-ables, rants, existentialism, sorrow, drawings, webs of words.
No secrets here folks.
Dear diary, you are an open book.
No censoring, no editing, no shame, no fear.

Sunday Scribblings #15 - Goosebumps

Confirmation shivers --
That's what goosebumps really are.
Shivery, tingly, momentary sensations that make your armhair standonguardforthee
Pleasant, involuntary, invigorating.
Evidence.
You get them for a brief moment after a near stranger says something
so timely and compelling
that you feel
they have deep insights into your life.
Shuddering, shimmying shivers.
Confirmation shivers.
They drop in unannounced when you read something
that for some strange reason
feels like it was written just for you.
Or by you.
Confirmation shivers.
A flash of sensation when struck viscerally
by the rapturous crescendo-ing thunder of a gospel choir.
Or by the strike of a drum breaking symphonic silence.
Confirmation shivers.
Congregating closely during jaw-dropping-awe-inspiring theatrics
Or a deliciously delicate dance.
Suddenly surfacing in conversation as you realize
that someone else believes just as strongly
as you do.
Confirmation shivers.
Crawl out creeping onto your skin when your gravesite is disturbed.
Designed to ignite insulation and keep you toasty within.
Confirmation shivers.
Arise the instant you realize that you rock.
Substantiating your place in the world.
Confirmation shivers.
Evoluntionarily enlarging.
Confirmation shivers.
Authenticate the truth.
They validate synchronicity.
Not letting you forget that there is a universal consciousness.
That if you really stop, listen, and feel,
You will feel as one with everything.

Sunday Scribblings #14 - Decisions

Is it because I made "good" decisions that I made it to where I am?
I'm not so sure.
In fact, I now believe the opposite is true.

It was only in crisis that I learned how to make a decision
I tuned in to my intuition
Was forced to really FEEL
I surrendered
And let my inner guide do her job

At times the steps I took were judged as "wrong" by society's standards.
So then how did I end up in the best possible situation?
I know why
It's because I didn't fight destiny
Instead I embraced my path

I don't believe in "good" and "bad" decisions
These are judged by the outcome of our choices.
Yet the experiences are our teachers.

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I have stopped listening to the teachings of others
and begun listening to the teachings my blood whispers.
~ Herman Hesse
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Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson