Tag: Healing

Categories
Life

Autistic

I will go to her too-white office, and she will smile from behind her desk of all-knowing. Then she will tell me I am Autistic. (Or something like it.)

I will say to her, I understand, and yes: I do believe I must be.

I will say I feel the world.

I will say the small child within me still remembers the nightly news; the drownings in the Yarra, the little bruised boy’s funeral song, the kidnappers and the murderers. Most people watched these things. I felt them. Just like I felt eggs. (Eggs have a nice feeling about them, although I never did much like the taste.)

Being Autistic would explain it all. And though hyper empathy is not typically seen as an autistic trait, it can be in women, and it certainly is in me.

There has always been an underlying discomfort to my existence.

A difference in what my brain seems to be telling me and what the brains of others seem to be telling them.

My Mum said I was unique and perfect, just the way I was. And perhaps I was. Perhaps I am. But my life was hard.

My life is hard because I live in a world not made for a sea as deep as me.

I have tried to be okay my whole-life-long.

I have tried alcohol and isolation to hide from the big wide world. I have tried avoiding all problems, by telling myself there are none. I’ve tried losing myself in chocolate, in books, in dreams, and in men who held my heart with eyes and whispers that soothed me.

But my soul has at last said, hush darling.

Let the others help you to understand their world. Only then will you fully understand your own.

So I will try to open, and I will try to trust.

And the rose shall bloom a petal and a day.

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Categories
Poetry

Rain

I wish only to walk in the rain.

As life thunders around me

imperfection after imperfection

(often mine)

I wish for peace.

And I wish to walk in the rain.

Categories
Life

My Heart

My heart has been closed, and so I have been away from this place.

I’ve been well aware of my differences in the world, well aware of the sorrow within the walls of lace and sun that I call ‘me’.

My truth will always be a sweet and soft sorrow. It’s really quite lovely; please don’t feel sad for it.

And yet, it is lonely, and home only to me.

I wonder what lives within the hearts of the others.

Categories
Poetry

Pieces of You

There is a darling softness

here in the heart.

A softness that holds my love for you

and all the times your smile

held me in safety.

I will miss you, always,

in the quiet.

My heart has grown into

so many pieces

of you.

Categories
Poetry

Someone, Somewhere

Beneath the surface,

gripped by the ripples

of life gone by.

It is a sad softness, and there are cold

lashes of fear, set into the marrow

of my bones.

Take this tender heart, I whisper.

To someone.

Somewhere.

Categories
Poetry

A Little While

There is silence

where the gaps are.

Weeping holes

in a persons soul, for life,

or just,

perhaps,

for a little while.

Categories
Life

Heart

How my heart breaks when I think of it. The moment I was curled up on the hospital bed, weeping in my husbands arms, just absolutely sobbing with fear as the two doctors stood by, helpless to my tears.

Only moments earlier the male doctor had told me I was fine.

An hour or so earlier the female doctor had done the same thing.

And yet I wasn’t fine, my body was alive with movement. And in that moment, on that bed, all I could do was cry for the absolute terror of it. The absolute helplessness I felt in the face of what, to me, was one of the most frightening moments of my life.

I have experienced heart palpitations on and off for as long as I remember, they are not foreign to me. I know the blips. I know the sort of big, and a little scary ones.

But none of them have been like this. I called the ambulance. For myself. None of them had been like this.

They tell me: this is what anxiety does. Anxiety causes heart palpitations, and panic attacks. Apparently it was one of those.

But still, it frightened me.

It frightened me into an awareness that I wasn’t aware of before.

I am afraid of dying. If you’d asked me if I was afraid of dying three weeks ago I would have said, no, absolutely not.

But when my heart went to loopy land and energy shot straight from my heart up my throat, things changed. I have seen that fear, now, and there is nothing for me to do but honour it as best as I can.

I’ve cleaned up my diet, entirely.

I’ll need to look into ways of removing as much stress from my life as possible.

And also, I’m really quite open to believing that this episode has a great deal to do with where my energy healing journey is at. Trying to explain to Western doctors that energy moves within my body, though, is like trying to explain the housing market to a fish.

And so I’m on my own, largely, on this journey.

They tell me my heart is well. They tell me my health is perfect.

This is good.

Now, all that is left to do is live my best life, and hold my beautiful fear in the palm of my hand.

I have you, fear. It’s okay.

I have you. xx

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Categories
Life

Scars

The scars of life run so very deep. It’s hard to remember them, hard to sit with that pain.

The moments of quiet are beautiful, though, and moments of love revisited are to be cherished.

How beautiful true love feels when compared to its total opposite.

Categories
Healing

Healing Pieces

They were tears like rain. The sort of rain that brings your soul to life as you feel it hard and cold on your skin. Refreshing. Beautiful and nourishing, were those plentiful tears of mine.

I was meditating. It was early afternoon and the baby was sleeping. I’d set the intention to heal my heart, and to clear whatever stuck energy might be blocking me from achieving my highest purpose in life.

I still don’t know what the exact blockages were/are.

But I know that by the end of the meditation, I understood why several of the most heartbreaking things that have happened in my life had to happen. And that they had to happen so that not only I would grow in love, but also, so that others might grow in love, too.

Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard? Firstly that this sort of divine intelligence lies within the very skin we wear. But also, that even the bad things in life serve their specific purposes for the good of universal evolution.

Of course, I could have been making it all up.

Of course I could have been.

But the tears that smashed down my neck and the knowing smile that lit my whole being told me otherwise.

We are a tapestry. Not one of us leaves the quilt without touching another.

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Categories
Life

Chamomile

The word sipping is very pretty, isn’t it? Delicate, like the action it shows. I can see a small pair of hands, a little tea cup beside a little light. And I know it is home.

I know it is me.

I’m sipping chamomile tea and wishing to be held like this more often. Wishing to be seen in the softness, wishing to share it and have others agree it is a beautiful softness we feel.

Tea is like that. Delicate, like the first breeze of spring, like the bunnies that graze by the river, in the evening. It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? An unreal imagining, only it’s true.

And so, so beautiful as the delicate rolls all around me.

I have been struggling more than usual over the past few months. Missing the beautiful flow I found a while back, and yet also feeling the embers of momentum begin to burn within me once more.

I wake each morning at 6 and I meditate, followed by yoga if I can fit it in. This is holding myself and my family as best as I can, with love.

I’m proud of myself for giving myself and my family these gifts.

If only a beautiful sun would light the rest of my world, so I could see clearly the path ahead. I forget myself so easily. What I love. Who I am. Each step is as sure as it should be. Why is it I continue to search for relief on the horizon?

I am home.

Let me stay here.

Let me fall into this beautiful sweet depth, forever.

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