My Inner Mystic

reflections and insight into my healing, transformation, and journey of the heart <3

Category Archives: wounds

Punctured!

puncturedOn 9/9, the day before my 38th birthday, I started to see a new friend / connection for acupuncture treatments. I was going through a bout of insomnia and experiencing (again – *sigh*) a surge of mysterious twitches and pulsations in muscles around my body. I chose to start treatments on 9/9 for two reasons: 1) to me, the date represented balance and alignment and 2) my intention was to start my 38th year with balanced energy, in energetic alignment.

After I scheduled my first appointment, I heard a little voice in my head, a voice that is very likely my voice of intuition, tell me that these treatments were going to provide holistic healing and more specifically, an opportunity to heal a little wound I have with this friend.

Visit 5 – there I am on the table, face down, needles in my back, body literally punctured. My acupuncture guy steps back into the room minutes after pushing firmly on tender spots around my shoulder blades and gently inserting needles into those same tender places. He tells me he just had an intuition hit, that right now is not the time to start a specific aspect of treatment as discussed and planned. The energy inside and around me immediately started to shift, feeling very heavy and thick. My little wound had just been punctured.

When I got home later that evening it hit me. I had a simultaneous flash of insight and an intense somatic knowing as I connected the surface wound to the original core wound and the series of wounds that came in between. As it hit me, the grief rose from the depths of my core and came out in sobs. By putting needles in tender, vulnerable spots in my body and inadvertently pricking the surface wound by sharing his intuition hit, my acupuncture guy released the energy block sitting on top of these wounds, creating an opening for an up chuck of grief.

The wound that was punctured is the wound of no choice. It was not my choice for my 10 year relationship to end. It was not my choice, just one year after my relationship ended, for ties to be severed with my best friend of 15 years. It was not my choice for a new romantic relationship to not be given space and time to blossom into the relationship I so wanted it to become; and in addition to that, to be bewildered, frustrated, and hurt that he moved away / “ran away” without communicating.

In each of these experiences, I had no choice; I had no sense of power. The “termination” of each of these relationships was decided for me, I was “abandoned,” and I had to live with ensuing pain and grief created by the choices made by the other person. And with my acupuncture guy, he had also made a choice that was not my choice in our history and here again in the clinical setting. That’s the thing with wounding, the heart recognizes the likeness and feels the prick, the stab, the pain.

Sure, it was painful for me that night of the up chuck of grief to connect with the core wound, to see a pattern of wounding in my life, but it is such a blessing and a gift to release deep grief still trapped in my body and my being. I knew there was potential for holistic healing with my acupuncture guy, but this release far exceeded anything I had envisioned. I feel strongly that this release occurred because of our history and though there is a tiny wound there, the wound is a gift that continues to inspire healing, continues to challenge me to work through the pain and patterns of my own wounding.

I need more healing around my little surface wound, but I am so grateful for the emotional healing of my deeper wounds, so grateful for the safety and trust we have cultivated together that is allowing for deeper healing. And my intuition tells me there is a divine intelligence guiding this process, creating little places of friction and pricking at the surface to get at what’s deeper underneath.

Like Me!

I recently stepped into the land of dating, a land I do not visit very often, and went on a lively exploration. I find this land intoxicating and frustrating and kind of maddening.  I don’t really date, I guess mostly because I haven’t met/crossed paths with too many men to whom I felt genuinely connected and drawn.  I can count on one hand the number of men I’ve felt drawn to, deeply connected to, and/or had feelings for since my big, 10 year relationship ended nearly 5 years ago.

I met a guy a few weeks back at the birthday party of a mutual friend.  We spent most of the evening talking to each other.  As the night went on and the more we talked, I could tell he was interested and intrigued.  He asked me lots of questions and stuck around longer than he intended.  Other than a powerful synchronicity that instantly connected us (he has lots of experience with a plant medicine used in shamanic journeys and I will be embarking on my first such journey when I travel to Peru in a few months), I can’t say I felt a connection or was especially drawn to him that night.  He did, however, do a fantastic job of charming me (umm, pretty nice to hear from someone that they think you are interesting and that they’ve never met anyone like you before) and so when he asked me for my number, I gave it to him.  In that moment I said yes (internally).  Why not?  It’d be a fun adventure into dating land.

We met for a casual dinner a week and a half after the party and I have to say it was kind of electric.  He came to life in a way I had not experienced him at the party.  He was funny and sarcastic and teased me a lot, which produced LOTS of laughter from me and not nervous laughter, but my real, authentic, from the depths of my core laughter.  I was blown away by how much he remembered from our conversation the night we met.  This guy was paying attention!  I could tell from talking with him that he has a brilliant mind and feels things deeply, that he values getting to know others deeply.  I felt challenged by this guy, in a good way, a way that I know if we danced together and developed a lasting relationship, be it a friendship or more, would encourage me to stretch, to continue to grow and deepen.

I came home that night feeling like I was under a spell.  I felt like I was swooning.  I had trouble sleeping.  I had trouble concentrating the next day.  I could feel the electricity circulating around my heart when I thought about him, talked about him, or received a text from him.  I had enough self awareness to know I was feeling the effects of a huge surge of hormones that my body released.  Whew!, they sure are powerful!

So why is this adventure into the land of dating so frustrating for me?  The waiting game drives me crazy.  At the end of our “date,” this guy asked if I wanted to get together again and in my own way, I said yes and communicated, again in my own way, that I enjoyed our evening together.  (note: the in-person version of me is not always as articulate and “smooth” as the written/edited version of me)  We didn’t line anything up, so now I’m waiting to see if he extends another invitation for us to get together, which I obviously very much want him to do (now that I’ve been seduced! 🙂 ).

After my body cycled out the surge of hormones, I felt the affliction of self-doubt and self-blame start to inhabit my being.  “Dating” stirs up my stuff.  I began to have thoughts like, “maybe he isn’t as into me as I thought” or “maybe after hanging out he is less interested than when we first met.”  I’ve heard myself say more than once, “I’ve screwed it up.”  I know this is kind of ridiculous because we only went out for one “date” and how much could I have done / not done to “screw it up”?  Is being myself and being true to my values screwing things up?

The thoughts don’t stop here. I even had this crazy, paranoid thought that I am sending out some desperate/longing vibration into the cosmos and that he’ll pick it up on his antennae on the other side of town and it will turn him away / scare him off. Alas, this is a very fantastical version of the “I’ve screwed it up” story line. But I do have legitimate worry – our thoughts create our reality…this is the teaching of Eastern philosophies and traditions, after all.

My fear of screwing things up, of doing something wrong, of ultimately being “rejected” is very real for me.  This is my psychology.  My “crazy” (and I say “crazy” with quite a lot of affection toward myself) paranoid thoughts and turbulent emotional state as a result of these thoughts is how my attachment wounds play out. For those new to this idea of attachment wounds…the relationship we have with our early childhood caregivers, and for most of us this was our mother, is the first “love” relationship of our lives and shapes and impacts every love relationship and every attachment (even with friends!) we have in our lives. I was raised by a mother who chronically disassociated; my little vulnerable self experienced her disassociation as abandonment. From that experience of chronic abandonment came the storyline, “there’s something wrong with me / I’m not good enough,” a common core feeling / belief of the wounded, a belief that was tragically re-enforced when my relationship ended.

Underneath my current frustration with my adventures in dating lies a whole reservoir of wounding, as should be evident from reading my tale. I so long to be loved and accepted just the way I am. I want to be in place of reciprocation; I want to be met. I long for a shared reality. Most of all, I long for the trust, safety, and container of a committed relationship, where I desire to share myself with someone fully and deeply.

After that exceedingly long and ePic prelude, I am excited to announce that you can now Like Me!” on Facebook!

I recently started a fan page and this post serves as my official announcement. 🙂

Like

Shedding Weight

No, I’m not talking about a new year’s diet to shed any extra pounds I might have accumulated in 2012.  No, what I’m talking about is shedding another kind of weight I carry in my body.

I spent my new year’s holiday at a week long yoga retreat in the jungle slopes of Mexico above the Pacific Ocean.

yoga pavilion

At the end of our morning yoga practice on New Year’s Eve day, our teacher invited us to devote part of the day reflecting on what we wanted to let go of from 2012.  She encouraged us to do some journaling, which I did.  In the space of the jungle canopy I didn’t come up with anything concrete.

At our afternoon practice, our teacher announced we’d have a New Year’s Eve bonfire on the beach. She told us to bring what we’d written, a statement or list of what we wanted to let go of.  We would offer this to the fire as an expression, an intention, of letting go.  I didn’t have anything written for the fire. *sigh* I hadn’t come up with anything concrete.

As I showered before dinner, I searched my mind.  What could I offer to the fire to represent something I wanted to let go of?  It struck me.  Heaviness.  I knew that I wanted to let go of the heaviness in my body.  I wanted to let go of the emotions, the pain and the wounds that are held deep in body and hinder my ability to feel freedom.  How would I express my heaviness?  A rock.  I decided I would put a rock into the fire.

As we gathered, my idea of putting a rock into the fire started to feel inadequate.  After all the fire wasn’t going to burn my rock.  The rock might get hot, but it would not combust and turn to ash.  I decided to expand my symbolic offering.  I turned to the slope above the beach and dug around in the undergrowth.  I grabbed a leaf, a fallen branch, and some kind of nut or seed.  As I grabbed these items, I knew what each would symbolize.  I could see in my mind’s eye the story my offering would tell.

new year's eve fire

Listless (literally, without a list), it was my turn to put my items into the fire, to let the fire consume what I wanted to let go of from 2012.  Kneeling before the fire, I made my offering, reciting silently.

To the fire I offer this leaf.  This leaf represents shedding.  To the fire I offer this rock.  This rock represents the heaviness, the weight, the emotional wounds I carry in my body.  May I shed this weight, may I be free from the hurt and pain of these wounds.  To the fire I offer this branch, the roots of the sky.  This branch, like the neural pathways of my mind, represents old ways of doing things, old ways of thinking.  I offer this branch to symbolize that I am letting go of old ways of doing and thinking that no longer serve me.  To the fire I offer this seed.  This seed represents the possibility for new growth to emerge in 2013.  May the fire burst this seed open and give it life.  May this seed grow and blossom and thrive.

So that was it, my beautiful and symbolic offering, one that felt very authentic to me.

Now that I’m back in Seattle I’m beginning to get a sense of what the rock is made of, its matter, its substance.  I think it hit me when a woman I work with told me she liked my earrings and I said, “Thanks.  They’re from a friend who is no longer a friend.”  There it was again, – the hurt that continues to come up in my dreams, continues to come up in conversations with my friends.  The rock’s matter is my hurt over this broken friendship, a hurt I’ve had a really hard time letting go of, a deep wound I’ve been carrying around, not just in 2012, but for over two years.

A few weeks before the one year anniversary of the ka-boom, my closest friend of 15 years, the first person I turned to in shock and anguish over the explosion of my relationship, effectively ended our friendship.  One day without any kind of fore-warning, she sent me an email and told me she was exhausted from the support she had extended to me.  She told me she needed a breather, time to recalibrate.  She told me that out of respect for her, not to contact her. I did contact her, just once.  I said over voice mail, “for the sake of our friendship, I think we need to talk.”  I expressed that I valued our friendship.  We never talked.  I have not heard from her since that last email nearly two and a half years ago.

The anger and the hurt have lessened, but I still carry the weight of this unresolved wound.  Like I said, it still comes up in dreams, in conversations.  I continue to wrestle with the lack of closure.  There was never any conversation, no opportunity to express my hurt, my outrage at being abandoned when I was still fragile, when I still needed support from my friends.

The severing of ties was one sided.  It felt as if the door had been shut in my face.  I was left with the disturbing feeling that I’d been broken up with.  My “friend’s” action to retreat, to remove herself from and effectively end our friendship felt and still feels very deliberate and intentional.  I think that is what has hurt the most – her actions have felt so deliberate.  My sense that my “friend” knowingly brought so much lasting hurt into my life by choosing to end our friendship has bothered me deeply for so very long.

No amount of comfort or consoling words has taken away the pain.  No amount of reflection, perspective, or insight has taken the soreness out of the wound.  After all this time, I have been unable to find a sense of wholeness, to fully mend the tear in my heart.  The anger and the hurt have dulled, but I continue to search inside for the closure I need to finally shed the weight of this wound.  I have learned this along the way:  deep wounds weigh the most.

And so out of this New Year’s Eve offering, not just to the fire, but to the Universe, comes an intention for 2013:  to find closure, to shed weight.