Day 14: See-Saw

I know when times are hard, it's easy to focus on the hard stuff, the suffering, the woes and pain.

When you fracture your finger, I don't know how many of you will notice the pretty bird singing in the tree outside your window. Chances are you're eyes are closed so tight, with yelps of pain leaving your mouth. I admit, I did not notice any such thing when I fractured my finger a couple of years ago. I did, however, have a beautiful dream the night before about a giant old sea turtle who came to meet me and hold my hand (the one with the unbeknownst-to-me soon-to-be fractured finger). It was magical. I digress.

My point is, we often forget to look beyond the trigger, the immediate cause of pain, the injury, wound, open cut - what have you. I'm aware this happens to me too. The interesting thing is, sometimes I'm able to catch this during moments of pain. And in that moment of awareness, I find I'm left with a choice. Do I want to continue to focussing on this pain or do I want to let other things into my peripheral vision as well? Can I possibly appreciate or even acknowledge the presence of other existences, happenstances, possibly good things around me at the same time I feel this pain? I confess, lately, I have chosen to feel the pain more often than not.

This brings me to the question: "Why?"

I think I want to wallow sometimes. Just cry like a child and not have to think about anything or anyone around me but myself. Babies are pros at it. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I'm no longer one. And there are a world of people around me I have to be mindful of.

Also, when it comes to work, or doing something functional, I'm strangely able to put the pain aside and focus on the task at hand. The same thing happens if someone I care about is in pain or in need of help. Yeah, it might sound like I'm a good samaritan or thorough professional. But I've come to realize I use both those things as a coping mechanism for when I'm hurting or stressed.  I immerse myself in some discipline or the other that has a definite outcome which is proportionate to the effort I put in. Or I help someone in need and in somewhat fixing their lives I feel uplifted. This, in turn, helps me to feel in control and secure, when my emotions are the opposite. Sure, work gets done and people are helped - but what happens when I don't have work, and people don't need my help, but I'm still hurting?

I collapse.

I think what I need to find is balance. Knowing when to focus on myself and not run away from it. To be in the moment and be still. And when to focus on what's around me and pull myself out of the Well of Woes, when I slip in. To make small mental and physical movements and unfreeze. Finding that sweet spot when I am riding the See-saw with my emotions and not being higher or lower than them. Just at eye-level, feeling grounded and knowing that we've got each other. 

Most of all, I need to believe that I can do this myself, for myself, without the aid of work or human distraction.

Tough one, but I'm going give it a shot.

Day 8: Eight Laps

I wanted to write a post about guilt today, but I've had a major anxiety attack this evening and have zero energy to introspect at the moment. Safe to say, a load was lifted, but another one took its place. I'm dealing with it and will address it soon.

Today, I did 8 laps and a 45-minute meditation session in the pool. I befriended my chakras, and told them it is safe to blossom. It felt wonderful.

I also went through the last two years of music I have created, sung or been a part of and remembered that I am gifted. It felt good to see myself sing and smile and fearlessly emote through music. I feel blessed and fortunate that I have been chosen by the universe to channel and spread this beautiful energy. May I always be worthy of the music.

I like how my face glows when I'm in love. I hope I can feel that glow again some day. 

Day 7: Letting Go

Why is 'letting go' such a battle? By 'letting go', I mean letting go of everything: hurt, betrayal, anger, pride, insecurity, past words, past relationships, anything and everything that no longer serves a purpose in my life and yet plays a front-and-center role in it. I think it goes deeper than just letting go of these things.

Letting go means letting go of familiarity. Even if they're yesterday's jeans, I've worn them enough times to know what they feel like and whether I consciously choose it or not, I'll be more comfortable wearing them than throwing them away and getting a new pair. I've already adjusted to their shape, to the torn pockets, to the tight buttoning and faulty zipper. I've found a way around them all, and have been able to coexist with the familiarity of old jeans. But the truth is, I've outgrown them and they no longer keep me warm or fit my body. Hard to part with old jeans. Now, imagine parting with old stories, old love, bitterness, unfinished romances, unsaid words, scars that have almost begun to define you, and so on. I mean, without these, I'm a blank slate. I have no beginning and no end. I have no story. And I'm left with now and here, and what I want to do with it. It's terrifying, letting go. Even though it is the ultimate goal. It's terrifying.

Who would I be then? The girl who met those people? The fighter who fought those battles? The woman who fell in love or out of it? The worker who never gave up? The body that did, when I pushed it over the edge? The heartbroken crumple who aches to be loved? The child who constantly wants to go home, but doesn't know where that is?

Letting go would mean I'm no longer any of these. I'd be me, plain and simple. And whatever I choose to be, henceforth. I think the stories that have accompanied us so far, become like companions, familiar shoes that we walk with every day, our favorite blanket to sleep with, our poison of choice, and our best friend. Remember, we also take pride in the things we've conquered/ accomplished/vanquished/rejected, however brutal the struggle was. Pride is a tough one to check and let go of. Oftentimes, we aren't even aware of how governed we are by our pride.

It's heartbreaking saying goodbye to the past. But that's exactly what will set us free from it. It is the eternal struggle we humans face in this limited period of time called life. We're moving uphill and our journey can  be either tougher or easier, depending on the amount of baggage we choose to accumulate along the way.

Operative word: "Choose"

Letting go also means no control. This is a big one. I can guarantee that 90% of whoever reads this post is terrified of losing control. No, I don't mean getting drunk at a party and dancing on the counter. Not that kind of losing control. I mean letting go of this idea that we have everything under control in the first place. That our lives will turn out the way we planned because of a series of actions we undertake in a calculated manner. Ha! The only thing that is guaranteed is that plans don't necessarily turn out the way they were meant to. That anything that can go wrong, just might. That you may find happiness where you least expect it. That your dreams may  cometrue but in the most horrific way possible. Change is constant and inevitable and if you don't catch that train, you'll be stuck on an empty station, until the station itself disappears and you have no ground underneath your feet. Nothing is in your control. Except the choice you make to cling to an illusion of control.

I'm afraid to let go. But I have moments when I can surrender myself to Nature and the Universe and I feel protected and secure, knowing they have my back. A year ago, I met someone special in a very unexpected place. We hit it off and there was a special energy between us. But in that time, we were both struggling with our own histories. And we couldn't get past them. I remember going to the beach one afternoon and going straight in to the Ocean and closing my eyes. I surrendered my heart, my fears, my desires, my everything, my whole being to Her. I prayed for support if he was someone who's meant to be in my life. And if he wasn't, I prayed to be released from the desire of him. And it helped me to cope with the changing situation at the time. It helped me to understand that nothing is in my control, so when I gave up the 'illusion of control' or my tendency to 'overthink' or 'micromanage' my feelings, I was a happier, freer person. I had all the space, time and freedom to love unconditionally, without desire, without expectation, without judgment. I still think fondly of him, grateful that we met, hoping he is happy wherever he is, irrespective of whether we see each other ever again.

But this hasn't been easy for me to practice regularly. I have had the opportunity to experience total surrender and its rewards, but it takes a lot out of me to actually do it all the time.

I guess it starts with asking myself: what is it that I want? Really?

I haven't thought of an answer yet. Not fully. There are words and ideas, but a full sentence, a full list of what I really want - I'm afraid to consider it. I'm afraid to manifest it, only to lose it.

I guess my fear is losing what matters to me most. Everything ends, doesn't it?

Haha!
As I write this, I'm reminded of a conversation with that same person I mentioned earlier.
We were discussing relationships and he said something along the lines of, "What's the point? Because all these relationships go away in the end."

And I said to him, "What's the point in living, then? We're all going to die anyway."
I also said (and I think this answers my question to myself), "... a month or so ago, I was dealing with unbearable pain caused by heartbreak. But even in that pain I knew that one day I will love again. Feeling love for someone is worth every trial and heartache. Love is the point of everything."

I don't have a conclusive end to this post, except that in remembering what I said to this person, I am reminded about what I seek and why I want to let go of all that baggage.

To make space for love, love, and more love.

Quando a mare baixar
Vai lhe-visitar
Vai fazer devocao
Vai lhe-presentiar
No mar
Mora Iemanja,
No Mar
Mora Iemanja
('Rainha do Mar' - Carolina Soares)

Day 6: Kiri-kiri

Today was a very busy and eventful day. And I was looking forward to writing about it tonight. But after a long time, I had a massive breakdown in my bedroom. 

I couldn't hold it in any longer, and screamed and sobbed my heart out into a pillow, while my mother sat next to me. All the anger, hurt, frustration, fear, sadness and pain just tumbled out without warning. It felt like the earth was shaking beneath me, and I was caught in a hurricane. All the feelings I was trying to distract myself from, suppress or rationalise in the hope of being a 'better human being', just raced out of my throat and into the universe. It was a cry from so deep within me, what came out felt like it made straight for the core of the earth, if you can imagine it. My mother let me vent. She believes it's better to let it out than keep it inside. I sobbed for every ache in my body, my heart and my soul. I cried like a child and begged my mother to never leave me, never die on me, never stop loving me (all the things a child is afraid of). In those 15 minutes, I became a 4 year old and she held me so tight, I felt like I was glued to her. It was the most secure feeling I have felt in a very long time. 

When I calmed down, I lay my head in her lap and sniffled. She ran her fingers gently up and down my back. This is something she used to do to me and my brother when we were kids. It's strangely soothing and relaxing and even though I'm easily tickled, this makes me feel light and sleepy. She calls it, 'kiri-kiri'. I feel blank now. 

So tonight, I've composed a tune on the ukulele I bought earlier today. It's the music that plays in my head when my mother runs her fingers up and down my back. My first time on a ukelele. Happy notes. Just what I need. Let's see if I can build on this tune over the next couple of days.

Kiri-kiri

An Ode to my Period

I waited as the clock struck twelve, 

With bated breath and crampy thighs

But Aunty Flo had other plans

And left me dry, with tears in my eyes.

I know I've been a tense little beast

And ignored the alarms to rest

I'd hoped this time, she'd give me a pass

And just add extra soreness to my breasts.

But it's wonky, without the crimson tide,

No surf is up, I'm hurting inside.

I know she's in there, tapping her foot,

Taking her sweet time to arrive.

Dear Flo, I miss you and your brilliant red

I miss the cramps, I miss the dread

Of leaving a mark, of feeling I've stained

Of feeling my bones are made of lead.

I promise I'll be a good little girl.

Self love and healing: I'll give it a whirl. 

Just come back and you will see

That you mean the world to me.

🌹

Day 3 - Afternoon

2:05pm.

I'm lying in bed, feeling exhausted. I woke up pretty fresh but my legs feel like lead. Maybe it's all the swimming from yesterday. Maybe I'm cramping, because I'm expecting my period. Maybe I'm just weighed down mentally.

I made an eggy breakfast for my mother and myself around noon. Just a simple omelette withpotatoes, onions, a tomato, with rosemary and honey to top it off. It felt good and was filling.

My mother suggested we drive out and run some errands. But I have no energy, no will, no inclination. I feel broken and debilitated. Today, I haven't found the enthusiasm I usually muster up when I'm trying to look for distraction. I feel like an incapacitated mess.

The worst part of it all is: I'm not isolated. I know, I know. It sounds ungrateful. How can she complain about not being alone? Isn't that what she wants, anyway? Confused, selfish, picky woman. 

It's frustrating. To have a bed to lie in, but not feel rested. To be hugged and loved by my mother but still feel uncomfortable. To want to laugh at a joke my father cracked but it hurts to smile. To feel lonely in a room full of people. To have something to say but it tires me out to speak. To feel inadequate despite being talented, beautiful, smart and self-sufficient. To feel like a failure when I have enough experience under my belt to feel like I've achieved something . To feel like I'm worthless even when my ego is inflated enough to write about how awesome I am in this paragraph. To not want it, but feel totally sorry for myself. Why is that such a bad thing, damn it?

I know I'll have to pull myself out of it some day. But today, I just don't want to. Today I want to be so still that I evaporate. Or so still that I'm not really there. I'm just a bunch of molecules floating in the breeze. Or so silent that nobody that can hear me passing by, breathing or feeling.

All I want to hear is that bird chirping outside my balcony, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, frogs jumping in and out of the pond near my house, the flutter of wings and the fan whirring on my ceiling.

I think my achievement for the day would be to get through it. 

Break Up Song

Funnily enough, this isn't my first breakup with my last boyfriend. I know what you're thinking. Why did she go back to him again, only to be heartbroken again? Love makes us do strange things that seem right to us at the time. That's pretty much all I can say about that. And that I don't regret it. And that it still sucks.

So the last time we broke up, quite messily and tearfully too, I wrote a bunch of songs. I'm a songwriter, by the way. So emotional turmoil is easy money, in a way. My unreleased hits include, "Borrowed Shoe", "I Can't Feel A Thing", "If You Were Here", and others. I guess you get the gist of the song by the title. Don't get me wrong: I don't find pleasure in pain (not this kind of pain, anyway. We'll leave that conversation for another kind of blog). But a wise man in a tweed jacket once told me that a songwriter's job is to bleed emotionally for the public, in the hope they will relate to us, and make our songs and feelings about them (and that's how we make money).

Maybe for this chapter of our long relationship, The Final Chapter, a new set of songs is in order.
Current Song Titles:

"Immature Douchebag"

"Not Strong Enough"

"Lying to Yourself"

"Why Bother?"

"The Asshole Song" (Oh wait, Jimmy Buffet already wrote that one. Worth a listen.)



Maybe I should hold on to the songwriting idea for a little longer. I think the lyrics will flow when they have to.

This is what I've been listening to lately. Not necessarily break-up songs per se. But they distract me from the sound of his voice or his smile and loving eyes or how we ripped each other apart.

1. The Score - Revolution
2. KONGOS - Come With Me
3. Fleetwood Mac - Gold Dust Woman
4. Barns Courtney - Glitter & Gold
5. Flashdance OST - She's a Maniac
6. Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
7. Fleetwood Mac - The Chain
8. Rocky II OST - Redemption
9. Blondie - Call me
10. Pat Benatar - Love is a Battlefield (because it is.)


If you have any other songs for me to listen to, I'm open to recommendations.

Poetry for the night (from my stash, circa 2005):

"Twinkle twinkle little pricks,
May your balls be under bricks.
When night falls, so will they
And sink to the bottom of a lake. "

Ground Zero

Here goes. I'm 32 years old. I just got of out a long, serious relationship. My heart is broken. My mind is frayed. And as it were, my body isn't in good shape either. Turns out, being a woman in her 30s has its own complications. I've always been 'on-the-go' and highly functional in my professional life but circumstances have made me pause. To make things more interesting, I'm currently in a transition period I can best describe as: 'Don't-know-where-my-life-is-headed'. I'm scared, lonely, low on self-confidence and a bit dejected.

Let's put aside all the gasps of shock, judgmental raised eyebrows and holier-than-thou faces for now. I am certain this is relatable to a lot of you. This wasn't the picture we had in our minds, when we were kids and time was infinite. We had stars in our eyes, a bright future planned ahead of us and a bag full of hope. Sure, a few small curveballs came our way but we didn't let them deter us. We marched on, hand in hand, songs galore. Then the big curve-bludgeons came. 

Long story short, I've been through this cycle of emotional sludgery before and I know these curveballs are going to keep coming my way, mocking my idea of a 'planned'  (or even 'somewhat structured') life. What's changed for me? I keep getting stronger (and, hopefully, wiser). While I haven't reached the WonderWoman Stage yet this time, today I felt a glimmer of hope. I will reach that stage some day. It's inevitable. 

Until that day, I want to spend every day loving myself a little more. Even if it means appreciating my achievements of the day, however small. E.g. anything ranging from "I got out of bed today" to "I invented a new-something" to "I baked a cake" to "I made someone laugh, and it felt good." I'm up for anything that makes me remember why I deserve nothing but the best life has to offer me. 

So I'm going to commit to posting every day until I heal (or the curveballs win - I'll keep you posted either way).

I'm starting right now with this thought:

"I'm ready to heal."