Washing it off

Have you ever felt betrayed, back-stabbed, cheated on, excluded or even bullied?

Have you ever felt betrayed, back-stabbed, cheated on, excluded or even bullied?

Today I think I managed to get my fair share of each – all in one go. Had to just stop the car and sit still and let it just rush through the system and then somehow slowly ebb away a bit.

When I collected myself again and turned the car on again to get out in traffic I silently ask myself in what sort of denial have I been living in? Was so I so desperate for approval? Belonging? Achievements?

It is like I have told myself what to feel rather than feeling it. What was expected of me.

Now I feel it. Like an instant pain you instantly want to withdraw from I just it still.

It is uncomfortable. It is painful. It is relieving in a backwards way.

I take time to feel and I take time to observe to the best I can.

I have found that I am very uncomfortable with other people’s unexpected expectations. They have ideas and plans I am suppose to fit in to, which I either never realized or I never actively took part in from the beginning.

Then they have these big dramatic behaviours and most often I haven’t seen it coming and again and again I am deeply confused or surprised. It has taken a while, but at least now – when I happen to do it myself – I can silently ask for some type of undoing and ask myself what is really going on?

When I manage to hold on and stay in my Observer position I can see that maybe I attracted this person – or his or hers views on something – into my life when I was in a fundamentally different place. As with my intentions, maybe I need to give myself a break here and let certain people ache out to really ensure whatever has to be learned is learned?

Today I didn’t look away. Nor did I dwell. I looked. Looked again. And looked at myself. And back again. There was really betrayal. Real back stabbing. Real bullying. But I didn’t have to let it define me. Or let it put me on an emotional dependency spree. Just let it fall to the ground as I move forward.

Wash it off.

The evening I spend in the ocean waves looking up at the sky. Trust, trust, trust I tell myself as I let them carry my up and down with the streams. I breathe. I float. I am doing it.

A little bit drained, but I go to bed with a cleaned soul tonight.

335 signals to go. Slowly but surely.

Drowning in a water glass

Falling into a 2m deep hole covered by snow finding Ground Zero…

When I was very young and first started school it was mandatory to learn how to swim and dive.

I remember especially when we suppose to jump from the higher (3m) trampolin. My big worry was when I finally arrived in the water, that I would misunderstand what was up and down, and swim in the wrong direction and consequently die because I would never have enough time to get back up to the surface in time due to my little detour.

So I never dive from from any heights. Not then and not now.

Now I know that if I am confused down there I just blow out some air and it will show me where is up, however now I am concerned if I would hit something I can’t see from the surface on my down.

And die and never come up.

Another time I accidently fell into a 2m deep hole covered by snow, so once in it I had no idea what it was, how deep it was and where safety was. And I was fully winter dressed and it was around 40 cm of snow so no one could hear me mumbling around there.

Eventually I had to give up – I couldn’t stay afloat longer.

So I let myself sink.

And sink.

The layer of snow vanished over my head like icebergs.

Eternally and evergreen and I would just be forever gone.

But.

Then I hit the bottom.

And when I hit the bottom I realized I could jump myself up.

And when I could jump I could explore where there was something to hold on to.

And once I done that I could climb up.

And once up I could walk home.

I almost drowned – in a hole – made for a waterpump on the back side of someone’s summer house, which they left uncovered during the winter – in a water glass it felt like.

The sinking – regardless of if it is air, water or in our minds – is the scary part. Am I dying? what will that be like? Will it happen soon or w ill I experience pain first? How far away is it? Is this the beginning or the end?

Surviving at this stage isn’t always an option. Everything is surrendered and we sink.

Flying through the air. Sinking like stones in water. Lost in our minds.

And then the crash. Hitting rock bottom.

And we wake up. (Hopefully).

Our personal Ground Zero.

343 signals home. Pushing upwards.

Image courtesy of winnond at FreeDigitalPhotos.net