It's said that “that which does not kill you makes you stronger”. Sometimes, that's a pretty good anchor. Sometimes, it just flat pisses me off. Sometimes, it helps me stop long enough to consider that maybe the reason I've chosen to experience whatever it is that may or may not kill me...is because I'm needing a reminder that I really am strong enough. I don't really believe in 'tests'...or 'punishment'...or having to 'earn' happiness. Mostly I think that kinda stuff is a bunch of baloney. Mostly I think that I came here to expand what/who I already am.
Sometimes though, I get in that place where the whole of my Being...the human Being...gets all kindsa tangled up. There's this a tug-of-war that goes on that makes me feel like I'm going to get ripped apart if I don't do something...right now. Usually, while this tug is going on, I'll go through a few different 'stages'. Fear. Which leads to panic. Which then leads to anger. Then...the anger turns to rage. Full blown, unadulterated, kickyourass rage. And that's when I can pick myself up, wipe myself off, and take action. Do something. Anything, to stop the tugging. Anything that will lead me further on up the road...to resolution.
Here's the weird thing though. Lately, since I've been really, really, really focusing on letting go the rage...little by little, something has been 'happening'. There's a transformation going on. I can feel it. I can almost taste that change. And I guess I 'should' be thrilled about that, given the time & energy I've spent on this particular emotion. But the real deal is that I don't really know..or remember...just how to deal with stuff if the anger doesn't show up. What the hell am I supposed to do now? No anger = no weapons. At least, from my former modus operandi. It's an unfamiliar place to be standing when the battle is raging.
So when all this 'stuff' came up (see post below), I waited for that familiar anger to show up so I'd be able to pick myself up, grab my sword, and go raging into battle. Like I've always done. Fearless. Righteous. Fully confident in my abilities to fight the fight and win. But, no. It didn't show up. The anger had apparently run for cover too. No anger. No sword. No righteous armor to carry me. Completely unfamiliar territory.
Now what do I do? How am I supposed to fight a battle without the weapons I'm so good at wielding? How am I supposed to fight at all? No sword? No armor? Nothing that I know how to use?
Yep. Big trouble here.
Big, big trouble.
You better rethink this one, Missy. You better run for cover until you find a weapon. You better make like a Magician and disappear for a while. All my instincts told me to run. Run like the wind. Run like a person being chased by an army of dervishes. RUN!
But ya know what? I didn't run. Something told me not to. Something said, “okay. You've been asking. Here ya go. Just stand.” And so I did. I stood my ground. I stood there, knowing somehow that there was an armor I could not see...protecting me from the wild mob of emotions, that was curiously lacking rage. The rage wasn't there to protect me...nor was it there to hurt me. All along I thought the rage was my protection...when, in fact, it was a big-assed time bomb....
10 seconds to detonation!
you're gonna get blown to smithereens...
When that realization showed up...everything was different. I'd actually done it...in some kinda way...albeit a teeny little 'different'. I had made it to a place where I could use my kindness to step through the battle field, not even needing to look for land mines. I was as safe as I'd ever been, all without the weapons I'd always thought I needed to survive.
No rage. No swords. No armor.
Just trust. (oh yea...it scared the bejeebers outta me...)
Trust that the whole of my Being was right there with me, holding me tightly...whispering those beautiful words of encouragement....
”I love you. You're safe. It's okay. Just let go. Just let go. Just LET GO.”