today’s lesson: there’s no need to nurture the wound ;)

allow me to elucidate…

I had a session of massage earlier, foot massage to be precise – my absolute favorite of all the massages.  😉  This, of course, led to other ‘left of center’ discussion and practices; reflexology, access bars, chakra stuff.  It was all good stuff, but the chakra alignment – or attempt at such – was pretty interesting today.  I just love the way energy manifests and flows all around us all the time.  And how it can stir one to write stuff.

Anyway, chakra 1, 2 & 3 seem to be doing alright according to the pendulum’s swing, but that ole’ 4th chakr, well, she’s a pisser.  There was much hesitation on part of the heart to behave, dare i say… properly.  Stubborn thing!  Skip over to the 5th and that’s pretty good too, as I’m fairly honest and enjoy communicating in different ways.  The 6th & 7th though, eh, not so much.  Maybe, too much conflict, too much doubt, too much… unsureness.  So we move back to the green, pendulum in hand -Tami’s hand, not mine – now asking heart specific questions.  It was  pretty neat to watch that thing at work, reacting to my personal energy.

The hesitation is all mine, fear of hurt, fear of non-reciprocation, feelings of unworthiness, and yes even a bit of an identity crisis.  There are vast amounts of love within me conflicting with a whole lot of anger and resentment, and when my identify has been grounded in this anger and the reasons for this anger, letting it all go will do what?  Cause me to completely disappear?  Not completely, but a good portion.  (And not the fat portion, dagnabit!)  So, I’d have to rebuild myself completely, rearrange what’s left with what new stuff i bring/allow in.

Then!  Would i even recognize myself?  Without all those old wounds that I carry around like trophies?  This is beyond scar tissue, my ancient wounds are kept open with a vigilance like no other, prized as if enduring them makes me some kind of heroine.  Logically, i know this isn’t true, but with my very identity rooted in these scab-less fissures, it’s hard to let go.

So my trophies have become anchors, keeping me in a place i don’t want to be but am too afraid to leave from.

I am such a lazy bones, maybe what i fear most is all the work it will entail.  Draining away the old infectious pus of hate, anger and resentments; Healing and nurturing the stranger-husk that is left behind; and finally, filling the now empty spaces with all things lovely and wondrous.  Oh, I’m sure we’ve all met hints of who I am, but not the me I’m meant to be…  the potential Jill Marie.  I’d be meeting myself for the first time!  Would i even like who i become?  Let me rephrase that in a more active verb sense…

Will I like who i become?

Who could i be if i was no longer tied to all that old junk?  My own 13 Ghosts; the wounded warrior, the unfortunate victim, the abused, the neglected, the abandoned…  i won’t list them all, those poor things need to be released from their torment as much as i do.  I can’t tend them any more, not if i want to move from this place of spinning wheels and stagnation.  So I’m tossing the trophies and cutting loose the anchor, neither serve me.

Free floating until I get hold of a rudder, this should be interesting.





~ by ghyllee mahree on 2014/06/12.

want to say something?

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: