Can’t Write Feelings
Words pop feelings like balloons. Yet I must write.
This morning I was fortunate enough to awaken, and to feel the petals of awakening.
I knew it was a good feeling, even though my running self looked to run away, to look away, to explain it away, to work it away.
The incredible feeling kept on. It would be drowned out by my mind for a moment. And then I made it come back. It felt, as it always does, like if I move, get out of bed, if I even open my eyes, if I pay attention to thought, it will vanish. Like it was never there. And no one believe me that it was.
I, maybe for the first time, felt the choice. I could feel it, calm surface of spirit. I could make it stay. I asked myself…how?. And the answer…
There is a choice. And the choice feels like a trick after a life like this. Making the choice to feel accepting feels like abandoning… Guilt-ridden. Like I would choose strange things, others’ eyes. Like I would say that things don’t matter that others think do. That I would say that things matter to me that others do not think are ‘matters’ at all. I feel unprepared.
Unprepared for what? Unprepared to come out into a reactive world when I give up reactive.
Can I believe in just that? Through my Fear? When I lied before. I never showed that I found peace elsewhere. I never showed that I felt happier in the woods. I didn’t reveal me. I pretended that love came from the people who wanted credit. The rest was a secret. Only for me to know. And I therefore, I thought, invalid.
Is a feeling of rest, true rest, ok? Is the feeling that ‘I don’t have to do anything’ ok?
I am still gauging my answer to that based on whether it brings me prosperity. Instant prosperity.
My acceptance makes room for excellent things. But my acceptance is not the payment of a wager. Acceptance is. And wellbeing is too. And Love is too.
Acceptance is about seeing what I didn’t see before. And about being seen like I haven’t been seen before.
Not about getting what a didn’t have before.
Acceptance in my world. My world is still wonky. And I mistakenly think that it is acceptance that doesn’t feel right. It is, rather, the ‘wonky’ into which my acceptance tries live that feels wrong.
Posted on June 2, 2016, in Addiction, Adult Children, Balance, codependence, emotional sobriety, Gratitude, health, Meditation, recovery, Relationship, Self-Care, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.