I’m about to sit down and snuggle with one of my Christmas presents. It is a book by Sigmund Freud called ‘The Interpretation of Dreams.’ I’d imagine it will hand me another key to my perception of reality, which I’m so looking forward to.
I love that sort of thing. Pondering the universe and the nature of reality. A lovely friend of mine calls me a ‘contemplative mystic’, and I quite like that term, actually, when it comes to the parts of me that like to wonder.
I have been wondering all my life. It’s a beautifully rich way to be, and I know it’s where I truly belong in the world. Swimming the deepest oceans, stirring up the kelp and sand.
When I contemplate, when I analyse people, I tend to analyse them energetically more than anything. Most people likely look at a person and wonder who they are. I look at a person, and tend to know who they are already, to a degree. They feel a certain way to me. Some people feel safe.
Some people feel unsafe.
I tend to think those must have been the ones among us who haven’t had the nicest lives.
I’m a big believer in the theory of a unified field of energy connecting us all. That we are this field. All of us. Energy at the core, connected simply because there is nothing to seperate massive clouds of energy, when you really think about it. Quantum physics, and this unified field theory explains, for instance, why so many of us ‘resonate’ so deeply with the exact same ideas in life.
It’s all really fascinating to me, especially as a creative who feels the energy of my creativity move within my body as I create.
It’s a confusing time, to say the least, because suddenly I live in a world where the choices are mine to make, and the healing of all my most painful inner wounds must be done by me, and nobody but me.
I used to ask others to fix me. In fact, I was so dependent on others that, up until the day the universe tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Omg, girl. You need to be waking up right about now,’ I continued to think that everyone else was probably right about just about everything, which of course meant that I was probably wrong. Such is the slippery snake of low self-esteem. The particularly cruel thing was…when self-esteem issues lived beneath my surface, never once did I think that anything was amiss. Until, at last, I did.
When I ‘accidentally’ embarked upon this ‘awakening’ journey— this epic road to self-love and acceptance—I had no idea what was happening me. I was just happily going along in the world ‘being me’: writing my novel, being a Mum. Not much was different apart from the fact that maybe I kind of liked trees a little bit more than usual, and that the sky colour had changed from ordinary to brilliant, for some weird and wonderful reason.
That’s when the odd pull to exploring spirituality happened. I was particularly taken by the way energy lives in this world and the different ways energy works within the universe to link and move us all. It was all so mind-blowingly fascinating to me, and it only became more enticing when I discovered the ability (an ability we all have) to move this energy to wherever I wanted to move it in my body. Like, omg. Guys. It was like finding wonderland after never having even heard of it before.
(Side note: If you’re interested in trying to feel your own energy, it’s as simple as relaxing and thinking the energy into a particular area of the body. The foot is a good one to try. You’ll likely feel a heavy sensation, and maybe a bit of a tingling or vibrating.)
Of course, that version of me who was just ‘having fun’ with exploring my energy—including my psychic skills and all the rest—really had no idea what was about to begin, and that, actually, by entering into this process, I would be setting myself up for the ride of my life: the making of an almost entirely new human being.
‘I’ was no longer ‘driving’ me. That became obvious very early on, almost as soon as I’d made the decision to let my intuition (or, the soft girl, for those of you who are long-time readers of this blog) come out to play. I began to give in to the woo woo of it all, to listen to the ‘signs’ and follow my natural urges. It was like the universe was the fridge, and I was the magnet. It was not letting me go.
As a result, I found myself experiencing the past all over again, this time for the purposes of healing. I hadn’t even realised how much pain lived inside of me. I hadn’t wanted to realise, more accurately, because knowing it was there would mean I’d have to face it. Now, I did not have a choice. It was coming, and it was coming in the form of bucket loads of tears (not to mention ALL the MILLIONS of poems. lol. Have you noticed those, yet? 😛 )
Sometimes these wounds would surface in dreams. Sometimes they would be triggered by others. Sometimes I’d just naturally find myself thinking of something from my past, and just knowing that I had to figure out why that particular memory had surfaced after so long lying dormant. I intuitively knew these inner pains needed to go, and so I got rid of them; through meditation, through music, through nature, through talks with friends and my counselor.
As a result of all this ‘facing the music’ I am not the same person I was two years ago. I am better by far, and I am worse by far, too, and ultimately that’s the balancing point I sit upon right now. I can’t go back to where I was before all this began: that is the only thing I know for sure.
From the very start of this process, I’ve had the very clear knowing that this is all leading me somewhere, and the ego hasn’t liked the vague timeline it’s been given to work with one little bit. Where on earth am I going, universe? And how will I know when I’m there? But If I’ve learned anything of this process it is this: the universe absolutely knows where I am going. And I am absolutely not meant to know.
A wonderful friend of mine, who often drives me absolutely batty with the simplicity he lives his life by, says to me this: ‘You think too much. I just pay attention to where my feet are right now. That’s it.’ I envy him this freedom, the freedom to be whoever he needs to be in any given moment.
And, actually, I know with all the deeper parts of me that he is right. Life really is in the moment that I am living right now, and funnily enough, reaching that conclusion on a more concrete level is very likely where all this is likely to end for me. If I’m brave enough to let go of the ways I’ve previously known to be true.
And, for the first time in a good little while, I am at a cafe, sinking into a booth seat, quietly reflecting on the peace of it all.
I’m the soft girl today. She’s the part of me that I choose—quite fiercely so—because the soft girl is anything but soft. She’s gentle and kind, and yet she’s capable and strong. And she’s safe, the part of me that feels most like ‘home’.
She made me buy a book, today, the soft girl did. It’s beautiful. A paperback, with a silvery-white cover and the title: Women Who Run With The Wolves: Contacting the Power of The Wild Woman, by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. A quote from Maya Angelou decorates the bottom. It says: ‘Everyone who can read should read this book.’
The book had whispered to me from the shelf—or, perhaps the soft girl had whispered me to it, I can’t be entirely certain. And even though it was only visible via the spine, I plucked it quickly from its little cave and read the blurb.
I wasn’t going to buy a book. It wasn’t on my radar, not at all. But as soon as I read what this beautiful, silvery book was about…the soft girl touched me and began whispering me her careful words: ‘This book will change your life.’
I bought it. It sits beside me, in my laptop bag, waiting for me to breathe it in— which I will do tonight, as soon as I have found a cup of steaming tea and a nice big blanket.
I suppose it might be a wonderful book.
And, if it is, if the whispers of the soft girl were true in all their wistfully tender encouragement…my life is about to change.