Free Write Friday: It was a dark and stormy night …

This is my first attempt at Kellie Ellmore’s Free Write Friday exercise.

Anything could happen.

No editing.

Here goes …

Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night. So I made chicken soup. Warm. Comforting. Soothinng. The sting of the darkness tempered by the comforts of broth. Easing my mind. Consoling my body. A flash of lightning. A burst of rain. Then falling down my window pane. Torrential, as the soup floods my rumbling stomach the waters soak the dry earth. Refreshed; revitalized; repaired. Another crash of thunder and my black cat stretches and yawns. Such a bore, the storm, he purrs. He seeks out his fluffy mouse and bats it mercilessly across the tile floor. A flash illuminates. The mouse is launched. The cat lunges. I laugh. The storm a backdrop, not a player. A game changer? A wake-up call? Isn’t that what the storms of life teach us? Get our attention? Wake-up! Wake-up lest you drown in a flood of your own tears …

*

Thanks for your indulgence …

Dorothy 🙂

*

Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013

Advertisements

A Struggle With Visibility

Still more on the personal journey …

I’ve made no secret of the fact I’m in therapy. I hit the proverbial wall a few years ago and at the time, feeling depressed, stuck, fatigued and hopeless, decided if I really wanted to move beyond it I had to figure out how to get out of my own way. So, I put myself in therapy.

Every week the light shines a little deeper into my personal abyss.

This week’s session was another exercise in moving beyond trauma. My awareness shifted once again as I learned to understand my life’s main coping mechanism … invisibility.

“When I’m invisible no one can hurt me.”

Acting on this belief is how I’ve managed to survive. The trouble with this way of being, however, is that it cuts me off from the world around me. I’ve rarely been really present in my experiences and have found it difficult to recognize or accept honest help when it’s offered. A lot of this has boiled down to my inability to trust.

As a result, I have almost no memory of my early years and spotty recognition of times after that. What resonates are the vibrations of traumatic childhood experiences that have conditioned my responses as an adult.

This is what I am seeking to understand and change through therapy. I still have a lot of life left and it no longer serves me to live invisiblly.

Happy boy

My horse is an important part of my journey to wholeness. His power and size mean I must be present when interacting with him. But I must first be there … here … present … for myself. In no uncertain terms Bear teaches me to do this every day.

I need, and want, to be visible but the thought of it, at times, still terrifies me. It is this ongoing battle between the new self-awareness and the old “comfortable” way of being that brings on such great fatigue. And as I prepare, now, to be front and centre on my upcoming wedding day these feelings only seem to become more entrenched and argumentative.

Yet I am determined to see the battle through, rejoice in my visibility, and continue to walk the healing path so my creative spirit can come shining through.

Putting these feelings into words in this blog is part of my healing.

Allowing the words to flow to you by pressing the “Publish” button is part of the challenge.

My finger is inevitably poised over the delete key …

… but not this time.

*

Lost Years

Release the fears,

And all the tears

Wept for the lost

And lonely years.

Be not afraid

Just let them go.

Plant new the seed

And watch it grow

In strength and love

Toward the light,

The shadow’s power

No more in sight.

And be that light

That wants to shine.

It is your turn,

Oh child, mine.

*

Thanks for visiting …

Dorothy

*

Copyright Aimwell CreativeWorks 2013 
All Right Reserved