A timeline of our lives shown to us as a kaleidoscope allows for us to see a trajectory in rose colored glasses view. A moment in time, not unlike the twilight zone that parallels itself to the reason that an adult behaves in certain ways. These are well played out roles, created in trauma. Deeply ran program are created in survival. Sometimes an aloneness and feeling that we are unworthy of connection. And we begin to find a way to be in a world that is barren and cold, full of other people who are feeling as disconnected as we are. A lucid moment here. A drunken adventure there. A moment of connection to the moon and a deep feeling in the heart. A distracted detour away from the pain into the bottom of a wine bottle. Oh such bittersweet moments in our precious lives. We find ways to hide. Clever and sweet ways of lost souls. Humanity is so painfully beautiful. If we could all see ourselves in the way that God sees us, we would live in our healing continuously, as we all eventually do. When we find our way out of our broken past.
Four young girls swim in a quarry at midnight on a warm summer night. All of us around the age of fourteen years. No curfew and no-one wondering where you are. All the booze, cigarettes and weed you could want, and no rules. Such luck we all thought. Until the reckoning of neglect begins years later, into early adulthood. One lonely mermaid drowns deep in her sadness. Naked and lifeless on a couch with three empty vodka bottles around her, modesty long gone with her youth. My friend Angie. I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her. So unimaginably beautiful. She was quiet and intense, and deeply unaware of her own inner strength. We bonded quickly, soon realizing we were both feral. Wildly exploring teenage hood with all the freedom our young hearts could desire and no-one standing guard. We were products of broken homes and a generational dysfunction of the late eighties. Divorce and parental traumas all rearing its head into child tribes of Generation X. Needing protection, yet wanting wildness. We were all creating chaotic patterns in our young growing brains. We were among many. The eighties was a grand time of unthreading. Ancestral programs were beginning to untether although deeply unaware of this chaotic program, we were of the greatest experiment. The universe watching itself discover itself, painfully so. For what lives inside the soul of a human, creates a portal to the vast intelligence of understanding and transformation. We see, we learn, we KNOW. Great awakenings begin. In music, art, and language. We were a generation of rebellion. Tossing seeds into the garden of manifestation, and Birds of Paradise grew great in majestic lopsidedness. The soup of that day awakened a generation of understanding and confusion all in one slurp. Although cultural change is exciting and lends for new ways of thinking, it is also quite traumatic and disheveled in its own process. Undiscovered space is untethered and wild. Growth is never pretty.
I have lost many friends to addiction. Key figures in my life, communally sharing these genetic lines. I wonder often, how we all found each other. Was the attraction pure coincidence or something deeper that bonded us. Destiny is mystical and lends itself to great curiosity amidst zero logic. I wonder if I am attracted to the addict or the addict to me. Or is life a lottery of magic randomness and destiny in unity. Or possibly the attraction of cultural components and energetic fields. Like attracts like. Comfort and similar interests. Adolescent chapters of my life paved a road of alcohol addiction and intense dysfunction.
For years I resented my broken childhood. Surrounded by people that were as wounded as I would find myself much later. I rarely saw anyone heal their anger or sadness. Triggers all around me and everyone acting out. Flying off handles or shutting down. A patriarchal system of obedience and tyranny. Many secrets as well, pushed further down into unspoken gardens. All around me were people gulping up belief systems that had no science or logic with catch phrases such as “because i said so” or “you will go to hell.”
I have elephant memory when it comes to the first time i meet people. I lock into friendship in a fast and furious way. Im learning the importance of boundaries these days. The lessons are difficult when you fall in love with many people. The Star of Friendship has been a prickly thorn as well. Many relationships come to a crossroads. Questions are realized. These connections are bonded through trauma. And they will continue to be until a lesson is somehow learned, thus beginning deep opportunity in self reflection. To know thyself is our hardest lesson. What are boundaries ? My teenage years showed me only feral and wild fields and empty panoramic backdrops. Sometimes awareness finally comes. Oversharing and an unguarded heart is never safe. Those lessons can only be taught through the splintered self. Just like sometimes love is only taught through pain. Duality meets the middle to give us oppositional lessons to raise an inner knowing.
Closeness can bring pain. Co-dependant relationships hurt the most when they end. Consciousness is tricky, and longterm practitioners find that our closest allies slip away from us. The path is far from fun. A human’s hardest work is getting out of our patterns. It is painful. I have been told more than once, that the diligent practice, eludes to loss of people. I have learned through my broken heart that I no longer need to depend on healing in this way. Relationships built on programs that continually keep us in our past do not allow for growth, and can keep us in our patterns. The journey eventually becomes about manifestation and letting go. No longer blinded by phantom lessons that are there to painfully teach us wholeness. It is difficult and painful work to change. Most of the patterns were created in survival and we must look at them closely at their root beginnings. Moving through this process must be an everyday practice. Yoga takes you far. It is the entrance to the kingdom of self. Seeing ourselves in the past and continually rising, over and over again, holding grace and diligence. If I do not tend to myself in this way, I am well aware that my old patterns can keep me imprisoned. I am working on pushing boundaries now. I no longer can just stay in a strong yoga practice. I constantly add disciplines that bring more depth to understanding and knowing myself more. I am not a victim of my circumstances. I am the Captain of my ship, and Captains need to continuously study their passages. Sometimes we even need to change our routes, and learn to maneuver storms. Our compasses should be on a timeline with the rise of the sun and the setting of the moon, as our only constant. These small points of light are a gift every time and always.
An exquisite arrival it is to no longer care of the opinions of others. Also to feel comfortable and strong in the degree of spirituality that we hold ourselves in. Faith is a field of energy, and it will protect us in our darkest hours. Truth has a light to it as well, unconcerned with eye rolls and sarcasms. It holds itself up to the most beautiful prism and commands no explanation. Shadows disappear in the clarity of honesty.
Through perseverance, I have found the goodness in my close relationships. I have great appreciation of peace and ease. Like attracts like and we often become the things that we desire the most. We are capable of overcoming our patterns by changing ourselves. Such worthy work, and so worth it. We are all worthy of self love.
When push comes to shove, strength is not found through ease. After the storm is over, gratitude is always forefront to resentment. Without the hero’s journey, there would be no power in our lives. We learn through our trials, and find meaning to life. Age no longer matters, there is no ending or beginning after all. NOW is all that has ever really mattered and to know that our soul is eternal. Without broken arrows, lost opportunities and past regrets, I could be an entirely different person. I am the eternal lotus rising through the mud, in all its difficulty. I continue to rise above my circumstances and lessons to find my way home to my heart.
Perhaps we should all keep our wild and feral tangible. Available on the porch for when we need to snag some. In this day and age of overthinking and far reaching to misunderstanding, we can begin to learn to be real and in the moment with our words. There is a light inside of us, that can not be dimmed in the presence of reality. This light holds no need to be defined or explained. It’s presence in itself has existed far beyond the realm of time. If we are still, we can feel it in the center of our heart. Every human is native to traumas and the trauma of the world, and the only way out, is in.