Growing, Space to Grow

The fact that my cottage dial-up internet “service” is frustrating, slow and totally unreliable hasn’t helped me get back into blogging. But more ‘legitimate’ is this reason: I have been way ahead of my fingers in my thoughts and feelings and each time I think that writing would feel good now, I start breathing and moving and . . . I don’t write anything.

So here I am, many, may days later and still with the urge to write, to state my current truth and aliveness and eagerness to, to . . . GROW . . . that just popped off my fingertips and it fits (glory be! is my higherSelf at the helm!?)
Certainly I’ve been doing just that, and although much of the growing has NOT felt good. (A memory popped: painful leg-cramps when I was a child were explained with “it’s all part of growing” – and how poorly that comforted me even though growing (and growing up) was a goal!). Over the last two weeks, my body has been talking to me in loud, harsh tones – and I’m still processing the experience(s). Through the physical stuff which flattened me so I felt like road-kill for 2 days (the image doesn’t fit perfectly as I was still able to breathe, and relished breathing deeply, knowing that was the way forward), I’ve discovered lots about my 2-3 dances. Thankfully even as I lay there, I knew that I didn’t have to continue dancing them – Now, it’s as if those tunes’ intensity is far less; though the triggers are still there, most times, I notice them now and choose not to run the old strategy. And my body is being gentler with me again; and me with it, grateful that the message was crisp and clear albeit forceful.

And –here’s the best part - I’ve already taken bold and courageous steps (for me!) to state my position and my unwillingness to tolerate or enable the status quo. (This is, I believe, what my body was alerting me to.) ‘Already’ flowed off my fingertips with pleasure as my ‘normal’ or old-me modus vivendi was to put off stating MY standpoint and MY feelings; sometimes I’d go beyond ‘putting off’ to the point of retreating into silence-mode and resentment. I’m not willing to do that any more. And a few people on my holodeck are seeing and hearing it; and I feel very good about my awareness of, and my voice about MY place right now.
I’m exposing my edges! I’m creating my space! And I’m growing as I go.

What was also wonderful to note for me was that I manifested what I needed in ‘physical’ help: caring and open ears listened to me when needed; a calming, energy-balancing massage appointment was available virtually immediately; and so on. I welcomed my body’s messages and I was extremely grateful for the external support which I sensed I needed and could muster simply by voicing my need. I realize that I can trust, trust mySelf to help me, and that there are no accidents!

A propos . . .
My altercation with the mouse-hole at the end of May FELT like a bad accident at the time, that’s sure. And the ‘result’ is still cramping my mobility; and my foot still swells a bit each evening. But as I heal gradually, moving at half-speed through my physical world, I see that I’m taking the time that I need. And I notice some metaphors with enthusiasm. Certainly, I’m on a new footing now with many people in my life and with my bva’s too. I’m finding my ground again in a new environment that I’m creating through voice and deed. I’m walking more consciously/mindfully on the one hand while also allowing my feet to take me at the speed and over terrain that fits my needs. And I feel I’m walking towards . . . who knows where? . . . and that my feet in their own way are helping me get there.

And there’s more I want to say, though where it ‘fits’ in this blog-piece isn’t clear. It’s just clear, and welcome, to me that this is where I am:
At an amazing open-air circus/theater performance at the Bread and Puppet Theatre in Vermont yesterday afternoon, I finally heard what the puppeteers’ve been saying. We’ve been attending their performances and engaging in their issues since the late ‘70s. Each year they expose and present burning issues in the world and especially egregious ‘errors’ being committed by the American government using enormous, beautifully sculpted and symbolically potent puppets and images. They urge, exhort and demand that the audience, we the public, wake up and take a stand. THIS much, I heard and felt each time we were there, and carried it with me long afterwards. Where they then, always, went on to and to which I felt no resonance until yesterday’s performance, was the possibility of going beyond incremental change to transformation through collective intention and action. I realize now that I was not ready to hear it; ‘transformation’ was not registering at all in my consciousness. I would watch the performances, engage emotionally and visually in the pageants, and when it came to the ‘final act’ I would note the victory of good over evil, marvel at the stage set, regret the conflagration which destroyed a wonderfully creative sculptural piece (representing, say, the military industrial complex, or agri-business which devours small-holders). And I was not seeing the enormity of the scope of their message of transformation. Why am I so blown away to I realize what was ‘escaping’ me at each performance? I’m realizing fully how very ok I have been with incremental change – it felt doable, safe, enough, all I could hope for – and thus all I could see. No more! Now though, it’s transformation for me . . . it’s out there as an option that I am now fully aware of, and that I too can make happen! I KNEW this for the first time at “emerging Futures” in June – so it’s perfect that I actually SAW this at the B and P. yesterday. Cool eh? as my five-year old granddaughter might say.

And with that awareness comes my commitment to doing what it takes. Those at Oceanstone in June will remember Louise's careful and clear warning: if x is what is meaningful and what I want, and if it takes a and b and c to get x, but I only do a and b, I will NEVER have x, I’ll have something different. And it’s my choice. At that moment my body understood, and as I write now, the feeling comes back to me: Resolve? Commitment? Desire? Which nominalization to use? Who cares!

When I think back to the days I spent recently feeling like road-kill, I think it was a reminder from my body to “do C” or else. By stopping before C, I’d be letting myself down, selling myself short, repeating what I’ve always done . . . and getting f, not x. This week, C was for choosing, and creating. And they felt and feel good.

Ultimatley, x will make a Big Bang, and I’m gearing up for it; little big bangs are already audible this week . . . and I like the sounds they make! And I really like the space they make which allows me to grow bigger, clearer, edgy-er . . . NOW.