It’s obvious there’s an abyss in all of us. That dark place where we fail to explore or simply choose not to. It’s an odd land that rarely ever sees the light. Amidst its depths live unknown species unrecognizable and mysterious. They’re there but they’re most often shrugged off as uninteresting or unfathomable or just plain weird. All of which leads us to tell our selves, “I don’t understand one iota what’s going on with that creature.” Freaking bizarre.
Those species and that abyss are just like all of those emotions we birth that run and hide. Our minds sense the stress and quickly formulate a redirect to move it along, to get it out of our way. It’s often subconscious, like breathing, we don’t even know it’s happening. It makes sense, we have shit to do and no time to deal with that weird and bizarre emotion. Disgusting.
But as a therapist-in-practice, I am keenly aware of the benefit and importance of stepping in before my mind decides to redirect to simply acknowledge (don’t judge, Amy) – the emotion. However, I too get overwhelmed with life at times and my mind in fact takes over. That is until I force myself to slow down and sit. It’s then, and to my surprise, that I realize just how busy my mind has been. Those weird, bizarre species are rising upward in need of light. Which interprets as I am in need to feel. And, well, that could mean a lot of things.
As these intense bizarre creatures make their way to the light, I hear so much. So much, that I needed to write them down…
Emotions running in high gear,
all of them;
joy, excitement, sadness, and fear.
Grief is the common thread,
tears come easily;
because old parts are dead.
The parts that didn't believe,
or even try;
the feats possible to achieve.
Sensations alive in my being,
twitch and pulsate;
reminders that life means feeling.
My world has changed indeed,
vast potential uncertainty;
confidently aware I can succeed.
Come to find out, these creatures aren’t so bizarre after all. They’re mine and they’re uniquely beautiful, inquisitive, and tenacious. They’re full of life and gleaming with desire to be seen and heard for exactly what they are – mine.
Yes, they come with pain at times. And what is pain? An fascinating and wonderful reminder that I am alive. That I am growing, that I am doing hard work, that I love deeply, that I have empathy and sensitive compassion, and that life means so much to me.
Every season that goes by, every accomplishment, every set back, they all leave a trace of that reminder – that an old part has died and new life is abound.