I took another sneaky day away from here, yesterday. I was busy ‘processing’ some soul questions and spilling the watery leftovers out my eyes. It’s an ugly blubbering kind of thing that happens when I cry, although I like my Step Dad’s version better. Once upon a time, he turned to my eighteen-year-old watery blues and said with a gentle, funny-man smile: ‘Hey, it’s not that bad. At least you look beautiful when you cry.’ (Ha ha ha. Sigh. My goodness I love that man.)
I want to talk a little bit about this thing that’s happening to me because, in truth, it’s the most profound thing to have ever happened in the world relative to me. I’m only in communication with one other person who has experienced this sort of drastic life transformation, too, (a beautiful friend of my Mum’s) so it’s been quite a lonely and frightening thing to go through, in some ways.
For close to a year, I have been going back and forth between two parts of me, trying desperately to merge these two very different aspects of myself into one whole human. Often times, this transition has felt like two different versions of me (my goodness I wish I could draw you a diagram) fighting it out to take control of who I am and where my life is going to next.
For most of my life, the rational side of me has taken centre stage. It has been the maker and keeper of rules, the iron-fisted disciplinarian that has made sense of the world around me in a very orderly manner. It has kept me safe. Then there’s the spiritual side of me, who I lost contact with some time after I became a ‘mature adult,’ and only now has she returned now that my heart has fully opened for business again. Oh boy, has she shaken things up.
The rational side of me—the order keeper that anchors me into reality—has had a bit to say about the arrival of her spiritual counterpart. She’s not all that keen to see what the new girl has to say, and I don’t blame her either. Among other things, this new spiritual opening has brought a level of sensitivity into my world which has opened up all sorts of weird and wonderful doors: a connection to nature that defies human comprehension would be one of those odd things the new girl has tossed onto the gameboard. (I’ll try and do a separate post on that connection, one day. It’s very hard to explain the lovely feelings that sometimes flow through me when I connect with the earth.)
So yes, while these two are battling it out, there have been some bumps in the road which have caused some tears— but actually, that’s where you guys are really helping me. You’ve given me a beautiful channel to move my newly resurrected creative energy through, and you’ve also given me some pretty wonderful shoulders to cry on along the way. That’s why I love blogging. The human connection. It’s not me against the world, it’s all of us together, sharing the good, the bad and the ugly of life.