Balancing gratitude with advocacy
Balancing gratitude and advocacy in my days.
Reminds me of an Opera, leaving an Audience hanging onto the next note of music, before gliding them through to the next scene.
The “thought” of how an exquisitely performed opera somehow transports the uncertainty of fierce passion for the causes that put a fire in my belly leading to a sense of clarity about all the chaos once the curtains are pulled.
Writing from the heart - it’s the only way I know! Moving from scene to scene in my Opera - starting the day with inhale of possibility and ending the day with an exhale of “I’ve done the best I could today - and that’s enough”
Have you ever been asked “Who did this to you?” And had no answer because the settling of layers had happened before you’d had a chance to respond to the moment in your highest light?
For all the times I’ve turned up in life looking like I’m falling apart, there’s been few responses like the one I most remember.
“Take a seat, I’ll bring you a cup of tea”
After placing my order for a pot of chai and a brownie - trying to put some space between the words coming out of my mouth and the stirrings of deep rage coursing through my being. The situation:
I had just finished my first appointment to talk through the beginnings of disclosing a historical sexual assault experience. Making the 25 years distance between the event and present day seem like a blur of life, waiting for this very moment. The links between the event and now had been uncannily creeping towards me recently, everything was percolating just under the surface of my skin.
Sitting in the cafe barely feeling the chair underneath me, I dutifully waited for my order, wondering how deeply I had buried not only that event but other events from my past.
The memories involved following my nervous system down rabbit holes, memory lane, expanded universes, empty chairs, drifting dandelion tufts and silent screams.
I had no answer to “Who did this to you?” it was more important to methodically recount in as much detail as I could manage the lifelong memory of a submerged battle of spirits
SPIDER WEB DANCE
It was the capture:
Into a sticky web,
A paralyzing bite,
Living not quite dead.
Heavy legs,
My feet frozen and glued.
The 8 legged creature,
Poised for the prey he pursued.
But the creature didn’t expect,
Elite flexibility from it’s prey.
The light which guided
And shaped my day.
I could out think, out smile,
The creature’s despicable stealth.
Those 8 wicked legs.
I’m not a part of corrupt wealth,
The darkness steals,
If given a chance.
Hairy legs tied in knots.
It was a battle of dance.
I spun gold in that web,
And I captured that creature.
Weaving good over evil.
Creating quite a feature,
To hang on my wall.
A speckled story to tell,
I thought it, so I did it.
The art of living well.
While this intro sits, I’ll bring in the bigger picture.
I recently saw an Infograph of Stroke Statistics and I let the feeling of “But that’s not my whole story!” slide down from the top of my head out the soles of my feet while I took in what I needed. I needed to see an Infograph on current statistics of Childhood Sexual Abuse. I found one. And my mind immediately went to all the current work being done to acknowledge what devastating consequences childhood sexual abuse has on healthy patterns developing. The real consequences for me as an adolescent look like this: withdrawing from engaging in school subjects about sex education, discussion or healthy peer talk. The shame about my body, the terrifying thought that as a 12 year old I might be pregnant, where’s the acknowledgment amongst the statistics of the real stories of untold abuse? The current generation of 20 somethings seem to have a grasp on the need to feel into discomfort - where does that leave me as a 50 something getting rid of the trauma from my body, mind and spirit?
I wondered whether I should put up a trigger warning up - I don’t know, I’m a survivor talking about the unspoken facts caught up in service delivery programs. A diagnosis to give a framework for symptoms developed from a new and unwanted way of being as a joyful child.
WHERE HAS IT GONE?
Play
Free
Warm
Breeze
Ease
Excitement
Light
Where has it gone?
It’s there in my memory but I can’t touch it, feel it, smell it, taste it.
I keep it in my mind and it’s sooooo special!
I don’t have to share it with anyone.
And nobody can take it away from me.
Reality is every day I go out into the world thinking about the highest intention I want to be in - because I know at any point I might be left spinning in a trigger, and I will not let that stop me. Who else have I moved past today whose life was cracked open and falling, as the past or present moment had set them spinning on an out-of-control roundabout?
To center myself the image I have in my mind is a ballerina twirling - her head flicking to focus on the same point at each rotation, while straight upright, keeping her balance throughout spins. Movement whether in mind or in reality helps to balance gratitude with advocacy work so that all the self-empowering moments are slowly repatterning my life. As I think about loving every cell in my body, maybe I’m on the right track and it’s all about living and loving the full spectrum of life from here.
Running - I’ve never stopped running in my mind, now I’m doing it for real.
Strength to you
Strength to me
Cause no harm to self
Or others
Nina Wilde