How are you surviving today?

The dark disguised in bright shiny colours blinding us…

On this quest to find myself my home within, I am more and more often coming across and ponder on the dark side.

The dark disguised in bright shiny colours blinding us with its promises.

In my culture it used to be symbolised by fancy sexy women with long hair, that when you could see their backs, it was like rutten trees with big holes and white worms crawling around predicting the walking of death.

So – I am exploring the backside of truth and of vulnerability, creativity, passion – when it has gone haywire.

My first stop is numbness.

According to statistics we have never shut down and tried to numb ourselves so much ever before. It is food, medication, drugs, debt, gambling, internet, sex etc etc – and etc. Long list. Very long list.

So long it makes me wonder – taken everyone at any moment is saying or doing what they think is best for that very specific moment – and we run away – collectively – to this extent – it must mean:

a) we are not so insensitive as we think of each other nor about ourselves?

b) how we live and how we relate to each other and our biological environment must be considerably off target?

Maybe we are all just trying to survive and when we run out of tools we just go back to something, which we for whatever reason references as comfort, something we think we have control over.

There is also proven, that for each generation we have become more and more sensitive. Our biological senses are overworked and indirectly saying the no we can’t get ourselves to say out loud.

Many children, when kicking back, are judged horribly and given all sorts of acronyms. Maybe it is the other way around?

Is it our bodies, with increased heart diseases, all sorts of cancers, allergies, over sensitivity – screaming the best it can?

We have all run enough now. We simply can’t take another step any more. We have to deal with ourselves in another way.

No flee. No freeze. No fight.Now what?

With this I go to bed tonight.

323 signals to go. Good night.

Image courtesy to Feelart at www.freedigitalphotos.net

 

 

 

Meltdowns and clarity

As agreed I revisited the fearless work again and one of the questions were – what are you afraid of would happen if you were true to yourself?

To not be the play along girl any more has a price.

As agreed I revisited the fearless work again and one of the questions were  – what are you afraid of would happen if you were true to yourself?

In two seconds I could conclude everything I had really worried about has or is happening right now – being judged, not belong, chaos financially being between 2 systems and handling 1 dead person’s, loose face, loose a relationship – don’t think I need to go on. You got the picture.

So technically I can just F*** it and do it any way.

For the first time in my life I told someone I felt bullied.

Despite the complete shock of the other person, who clearly just thought they could do what they were doing without thinking, it was a big step for myself – both being vulnerable – but also to actually call something with its correct word.

Where I grew up you could not raise your voice, object or in any other way misbehave. Thinking about it now I was askling myself how that rule was put into play since I never heard or saw anyone object. Was that also bullying? Some type of silent threats or simply ignoring you to the point you didn’t exist unless you changed your attitude? I mean where is the borderline where you no longer correct or lead something, but is actually breaking something down? The classical tactics to undermine women without saying it loud.

I know both my grandma and my mother had regrets about this, but still they never broke the pattern. When I started school at 7 I had already stress symptoms on both teeth and eyes. At 23 my hair went white from one day to another. I remember the doctor telling me to spend more time in the stables…being a rider herself that was the best she could come up with.

My mother clearly suffered from this. My grandma I don’t know. I was so outside myself by the time I lived with her I must have been like a drilled puppy. My mother raged and threw porcelain, while I ducked and cried in silence.

So today I had my meltdown and my clarity. I still hate meltdowns though. Even when the air is cleared and things are fine. It is like loving new rain, but be scared of the thunder – you can’t have one without the other.

Maybe that’s it – as rodeo rider’s count their falling offs, the sales person his nos until the yes – maybe I should count my meltdowns and celebrate them as representing that I am one step closer to my new reality?

Today I will sleep well.

328 signals to go home.