google.com, pub-5757774074306606, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0

November 22, 2019

March 22, 2019

February 24, 2019

February 15, 2019

January 19, 2019

Please reload

Recent Posts

The End of the World

November 22, 2019

1/4
Please reload

Featured Posts

Time for Truce: Love, Love, Love....HATE?!

September 11, 2013

I booked myself a trip to London about a month ago. Of course, I was looking forward to it. Do some shopping, hit up some Triyoga classes, Wholefoods and, one of my fave passtimes, coffeeshop writing complete with caffeine buzz and vegan cake. Everything was going just fine. My rational mind explains: I have plenty of work, it's the first time in my life where I can actually, independently afford a city break. I'm continuously working on myself, got my vision boards, my journal, a nice flat, lovely partner, new car. It's all good. And it is. Saying that, however, a part of my being beyond my rational mind can no longer brush over the deeply seeded emotions brewing under the surface of the apparent 'it's all good.' Though it is, London was horrid. Correction: I was horrid in London. All my fancy visions and great expectations dispersed into the polluted fog of the city, as did my bright attitude, smile and any kind of clarity. As each day passed, I could just about manage my morning routine until something was said, someone walked passed and looked at me the wrong way or I caught my 'dissatisfied' self in a window reflection and then, without any notice I was inundated with overwhelming feelings of anger, rage, hatred and guilt...I was in no way expecting these emotions to surface, but they did. I have buried my head in work for the last three months, (or two years, or twenty depending on how you look at it) and though I could feel some stuff bubbling, I had no idea what was coming. Simply put, it was intense! My lovely boyfriend got to witness it and frankly, I could see my ego mind desperately trying to project all these emotions on to him. If he could just say the right thing. Do this, do that or be someone different, then my life would be much better. Then I could be the person I so desperately want to be. Yeah, this doesn't work. He's his own person, with his own stuff. So, I'm throwing in the towel. I am done with blame. I want to take responsibility for my life, 100% of the time, for all of it. And, I want to move through the dark, ugly shadows of my being, so I can change my patterns and actually let go of my guilt and hatred once and for all. And I'm pretty sure this is the only way to do it. I cannot hide behind nice words and activities. No longer do I crave the numbness or total unawareness of alcohol. This time, it's just me. Me and more me. No one to blame, no substance to abuse, nowhere to hide. And, it's okay. We got through to the end of our visit; the final hours spent apart, as I stormed off in a total rage, burdened by the heat, smog and overly heavy bags. I sat in a park, waiting for something; a call, a text, a pat on the shoulder. Nothing came. Finally, I swallowed my pride and sent an apologetic text and made my sweaty way to the train station. By the time we found one another and boarded the train, neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say...not there anyway. I opened (having not done so the entire time in London) A Course In Miracles and of course it was exactly the part I needed to hear, "Your 'guilty secret' is nothing, and if you will but bring it to the light, the Light will dispel it." I put my head down, exhausted, feeling beat-up and broken, I fell asleep. When I awoke, we still weren't speaking and when I moved closer for a hug I was denied close contact. I cried much of the drive home and there were signs of relief as we started communicating, though my words failed to explain what was going on inside me. By the time we got home, with some tension dispelled, a great cloud of darkness remained; the storm was about to break. When it did, it was mighty! The accumulating blow was his decision to leave and me slamming the bedroom door as loud as I could before collapsing on the bed for the hurricane tears to begin pounding. My deep wales interrupted by a gentle knock, followed by him entering, sitting down next to me, stroking my back to utter a heart-felt apology. I managed to gurgle, 'I'm so sorry' between the slobber and tears, and eventually, rambling words and more tears turned into some light laughter and finally stillness; peace. Two days later, after some reflexology, a day in bed, a candlelit salt bath and four romantic comedies, I can write again. I feel like I can continue with life, this comes after seriously questioning whether I really wanted to be here...having just experienced the full force of a long-denied deeply buried hatred toward myself and thus, life! Now, having seen it, I trust 'the Light will dispel it.' Because I truly love life. I love myself. I love humanity. I love the planet. I love the process. I love awakening. I realize that I don't want anything out there. I want only to awaken to who and what I truly am and in doing this, the 'out there' will be exactly perfect, always. I accept it; all of it. What a ride...PHEW! With open arms and mind I am ready for whatever comes next. Bring it on, because it's all for love. Peace y'all!

 

 

 

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

Follow Us