A Sweet Spring Misting of Fear

There is something about today.  Something of a twist, a shift.  As usual, I woke up before seven am.  I brewed tea, climbed back in bed and looked out the window at the gray sky, gestating with unspilled drops.  Usually the rain begins to fall in the anonymous folds of darkness.  I’m not exaggerating when I say that at least 88% of the rainstorms this year have started that way; splashing down in wet, vivid, nocturnal music, seducing me even through sleep.  But not today.  Today mother nature groaned in prolonged labor as I sat on the other side of the glass, placidly waiting for the water to break.  In the scientific language of minutes, it really didn’t take that long.  But in the language of feelings, subtlety, transcendent some-things, it seemed to be an arduous labor.  And when the gray-bellied sky broke open, it was not what I expected.  The drops were delicate as trembling spring petals, so fine, yet dense.  Sifting sugar.  Relief spilled inside me as I felt the release.

Inside me now, a light misting of fear showers down.   It is not a deluge, thank goodness.  No, just the same sugar-esque storm as the one outside.  Some days, for no tangible reason, I wake up to feelings of fear and dread.  I just do.  I don’t know if this is “normal” or not… but as I grow into myself, I am coming to understand that this is a natural facet of being a highly sensitive being in a world full of strife.  Sometimes the fear in the air is especially thick.  Like an emotional smog that builds up after too many hot days in a densely populated city.  I used to panic on these dark days.  I feel so helpless sometimes when it comes to things I don’t understand.  You know what I mean?  If I could just slap a quick label on it and scribble it onto my to do list… or swallow any number of modern day miracle pills… well wouldn’t that just be so much easier than learning to be a gracious hostess to this seemingly threatening facet of my human experience?

But I am learning to surrender and simply allow it to be, without taking it too personally.  I’m not saying I’m there… I’ve got a ways to go, before I am skillful enough to just blast it with unconditional love and acceptance.  But at least I know where I’m headed, right?  Which brings me to the topic of my Saint training.  I feel like sometimes I throw out all these lofty friggin concepts… about the light inside and forgiveness… you know, all the popular enlightenment ideas… but what do they really have to do with my moment to moment choices, actions, words?   Today I am painfully aware of the gap between my spiritual aspirations and the truth of my life in this moment.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, because God is in the gaps as much as anywhere else, and I mostly believe I am doing my best.  But in terms of saint training, let’s just say, I have a rigorous curriculum.

Yesterday I wrote a fluffy brady bunch testimonial about the goodness of friendship.  But DARE I write a twilight zone ownership of the challenges of family (and those whom I project my family issues on)?  I think many writers struggle with this place of constraint.  The fear of releasing their whole voice to the world, for fear of the condemnation of their families, or some comparable party that arises as a seeming outward force of resistance; either a hurdle to overcome, or just an excuse to remain silent and deprive the world of the totality of their unique voice.  I feel that edge inside.  Especially when I write about my sexuality.  As soon as I do, this rip tide of imagined condemnation swirls up and tries to carry me away in a sea of fear and silence.  But mostly I forge ahead anyway, because I yearn to stand unabashedly naked in my words.  Why?  Because the truth shall set us free.  Because I don’t want to live in a world where the truth of anyone’s experience is a source of ridicule or persecution.  I want to live in a world where each one of us is vibrantly alive in the divine wholeness of our experience.  I want you to hear me and remember that you are in fantastic company and there is no need to hide or pretend.

There is no need to hide or pretend?  Why does it so often feel like there IS a need to hide and pretend?  Once upon a time, I had regular coaching sessions from an exceptional woman… She was fearless in her ability to see under the stones in another and recognize the most intimate, raw truths that lie beneath.  Once she said something  to me:  “People like you…Because you’re nice; Because you don’t stand for anything.  When you take a stand for something, it is bound to turn some people off.  You have to be willing to face that.”  And I knew she was right.  It terrifies me to hallucinate a loss of love and acceptance at the hand of me taking a stand.  But it also turns me on, because at my core, I know that I am a warrior.  I know that my life is a demand for me to take a stand.  A stand for a God, a Love who is big enough, kind enough, accepting enough to include all of us.  A stand for the unabashed truth of my humanness, and your humanness.

I say all this and I feel strong… but when I think about facing this part of myself that shows up on the faces of certain women in my life… I feel like a hopeless scardy cat.  But I know this much~ As tempting as it is for me to believe that it is about the “other”, at a deep level, I know it is about myself.  How do I know this?  Because I encounter the same “enemy” in a few characters in my life.  They are all women I am intimate with.  They are all women who live deep in my heart.  But somehow, my perception takes a crooked swerve along the path of the relationship(s) and  I imagine them to be teeming with judgment and criticism of who I quintessentially am.  I am afraid of facing them because I am afraid of the feelings that I might possibly feel in the face of their disapproval.  So instead of turning toward them, I hide.  But then they haunt my mind, my heart, wafting like perpetual dancing smoke through my day to day experience… until I can take it no longer and I must face them.

I used to have a deep fascination with lucid dreaming.  I read a few books on it, and practiced it every night… Experts on the subject claim that in dreams, you can turn and face the threatening characters in order to (hey, a man here at the café just blasted a ton of NOSE DROPS into his nose!!!  He is wearing a baseball cap.) make peace with them.  The same horrible monster that might have been chasing you for years could turn out to be chasing you because you dropped something deeply important, maybe a key to the door of your heart, say…

This is a slippery slope, though, because I just noticed that I am subtly living inside the belief that once I turn and face this “monster”, then I will be happy and peaceful.  Yup, another elusive, shimmering carrot!  Carrots can be so damn sneaky!  I feel an invitation from the inside to cultivate compassion for this fearful facet of me, and to bow to the path its self.  I wish to fully surrender to the work that I must do in this life.  I wish to revere and love the jagged path, trusting that it is explicitly designed to lead me back to LOVE.  It is so tempting for me to be ruled by my deep feelings.  But there has to be another way.  What can I forgive this day?  I call on a God who stands by my side with unwavering loyalty of the quintessence of all Friends.  I call on the collective strength of every single Saint, every master of the Self that ever was, is or will be.  Amen.

PS~ I recognize that my words might seem elusive… but from over here in “the eye of the storm”, it’s hard for me to see clearly.  So if any questions arise for you, PLEASE leave a comment and ASK me to clarify!  Thanks.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    Apr 28, 2010 @ 00:31:21

    Oh lady of divine lucid fingers and nimble consciousness, thanks, really, for asking such delicious questions and revealing such glistening truth.
    This from yoga teacher Sofia Diaz: ” Where we feel subtle pain or closure [in our bodies] is where we blame external life. Our unconscious responses to these sensations is what we tend to blame on life the most.
    I so know what you mean when you talk about waking up in fear. It seems often that there is no external cause (or is it my intuition trying to tell me something is wrong???). Today when I heard the above from Sofia it answered something for me.
    At the Brainwash Cafe in SF they have a burger called the Burger of Doom, this is how I have begun referring to my inexplicable fear, the body memory of all the times that I discovered that something was wrong when I thought all was right in the world.
    Love, always,



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