My life has really been through a major shift recently. I have been seeing an Emotional Intuitive who was trained by Martha Burgess. Her name is Debra Armentrout. She's an artist who took two of my classes at Binders and when we met, I just had this feeling that we would work together. She is amazing, full of gentleness and passion and clarity.
I first came to her with a list of physical ailments I wanted to let go of. The source of these illnesses is emotional pain. A big part of what she does is read your child's mind (your subconscious) while reporting to you what you're not admitting to yourself. She digs for the truth. She says our bodies are the libraries of our lives. I've never been in therapy for a good length of time, never met anyone who really helped me, who I trusted. Until now.
It is amazing, amazing work - bringing me to the truth of really knowing who I am, what I was, what I can let go of, what's kept me stuck and why my body hurts.
During our sessions, I bring a book with me and take notes. She tells me things, I write them down. Sometimes I feel them right away. Sometimes it takes a few hours or weeks for me to really feel the truth of what is said. It is all unclouded pain and honesty.
Eventually, I will get to the point of letting go of issues, anger, a fear of the loss of safety. But for now, I've been digesting all this stuff. It's hard to hear, but it moves me forward.
My understanding of God has changed immensely (this is ANOTHER soon to come post.) I've always known this truth, but it didn't jive with the church I grew up in, so I kept quiet. I kept quiet about a lot of things while growing up. And I am getting to know this little girl who didn't have a voice. I am taking care of her now. The little Anne whose family bulldozed her voice aside to deal with Tommy's anger and pain and everyone else BUT her.
So I've spent my adult life stuffing my voice down into my chest, thinking I was still the little girl who shouldn't rock the boat. THAT is why I have headaches. THAT is why I had a debilitating speech impediment - I stuttered. THAT is why I had mouth sores. THAT is why my neck is in such bad shape, my tailbone hurts. My body is literally aching for relief and just wants to be understood.
I am listening closely to my self for the very first time. Oh, it is glorious. Liberating. Terrifying. And absolutely perfect in all of these things. I am alive and moving and flowing and filled with a love for this life I never knew was possible.
I am healing myself.
Here are some images (emotive type - what else!?) of some of the things I've said to Debra. It feels amazing to write them down. To ink them up and get them out. It's part of the whole process.
And here are some of the truths I wish to admit to myself:
My rage is a scythe that can cut just from being unsheathed.
My rage is a damn that trickles as spite.
Tommy is my template for living a saintly life - the crazymaker who instills gratitude for the simplest joy. What a gift!
I am a martyr. I live a small life.
I am a shell of what Tommy left behind.
I am a quiet sheep with a lion inside.
I live a hidden, little life.
Bottled up ink can spill.
I am too weak to live in my own body.
I am the queen of small, tidy things.
I am trapped in a firm that slows me down.
I feel SHAME that I wander in other directions.
GUILT that I'm drawn toward other directions.
Heartbreak that all the loves can't do what god is leading me towards.
My smallness is the best defense against my rage.
My mother is still controlling me on the countertop. I'm not free of her.
I feel sadness that I am inextricably linked to my mother and family.
I am liable for the aspects of my mother's addiction (to staying distracted) that formed me.
Don't spill the dirty laundry. (ha! I'm doin that right now!!!)
I can't move forward without taking them with me and I don't know how to take them with me.
Tommy is my guide to everything.
Well! I think that's about it for now.
I am sitting downstairs in my new studio setup. It's thundering and lightening. Hailing. Beautiful dark weather outside. And in me - is the same environment. The darkness I find is as deep as my capacity for joy and love.
This range of emotion, I believe, is the finest gift each of us has.