The planning of my own outing

Tags

Anonymous, cloak of anonymity, Courage, nom de plume, outing, strength, vulnerability is my power base, willpower

I intend to write this book under my own name. But, I don’t want the readers of this blog to not know, or have to guess who I am.

So it seems that my nom de plume has almost outlived its usefulness.

I needed it very much when I began writing this blog, for everything I had to say was so raw. And the courage to write what I wanted to write required a shield, which I gave myself with this cloak of anonymity.

I’ve been writing this blog for over four years now, and actually, these days my identity is a bit of an open secret. Mostly because I’ve made so many wonderful friends via blogging: reading other blogs, and having others read mine.

Already, I’ve met several of my blog friends in real life, and there are more such real-life meetings to come!

Some of these friendships have lasted, while others have not. There are other people who still read this blog that I’d like to to be better friends with, but to be honest, it’s those friendships that haven’t worked that cause me to hesitate.

But really, only because I don’t wish to be outed before I’m ready, and even though the pool of people who know me already is probably more than I’d like, I’ll still try to contain things a little longer.

In recent times, I’ve held on to my semi-anonymous state because it didn’t feel right to change it, and also because I didn’t want people from my 9-5 job to know such intimate details about me.

But that was then. When I was fearful of my own vulnerability.

Before I realised that in fact, my vulnerability is my power base.

That having lived through what I have, I am stronger when I reveal the truth of my experiences.

For there is no weakness in dealing with adversity. Only strength.

For whatever reason, it doesn’t feel that way when you’re going through it. Which is very annoying. But to make it through to the other side? Requires such strength, courage and willpower.

Then, it takes time for your own power to be revealed to yourself.

You don’t have to be a super-hero, only really, really determined.

Because I’m just like everyone else. Not imbued with extra abilities. What I’ve done in my journey of recovery? Is available to anyone who wants it.

So. I’m preparing for my own self-outing. I’m not clear on the timing yet, but it’ll be soon-ish. Because I want to be able to link my journey with the book I’m writing.

In order for people to know that actually, you can rise up from the worst experiences of your life.

And when you do? You’ll be:

Transformed.

Stronger.

Wiser.

Happier.

More real, more awake and more human than ever before.

~ Svasti

11 things I just don’t need #reverb10

Tags

#reverb10, Acupuncture, Anxiety attacks, Courage, Cycling, Fear of rejection, Grief, Kinesiology, Procrastination, rampant consumerism, squatter’s rights

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?
~ December 11 prompt

1. Clinging to the past
   Bah! That past stuff, whether it’s limiting self-beliefs, traumatic events or anything else that’s been holding me back. Can’t say divesting myself of these ghosts will be easy but I’m prepared to keep at it. In my arsenal is kinesiology, acupuncture, cycling and of course, yoga (both as a student and a teacher).
   This year has proven that these things get results. Next year I’m keeping steady on my course with this work…
2. Fear of rejection
   My basic assumption is that no one but NO ONE could be looking at me. Not in that way. I’ll happily play a gauche game of eye contact hockey with a cute guy across a room (which actually happened just last week), but I completely fail when it comes to having the courage to just say “hi”. Lame. Gotta get my courage on!
3. That extra 10kg I’m wearing
   Not quite as slinky as a silk negligee but more intimately involved with my body… that layer of grief and sadness I’ve been hauling around, well that HAS to go. So I’ll be upping my daily quotient of sun salutes (which are awesome for the metabolism and digestion) and trying my hand once again at a little interval jogging.
4. Debts
   I’ve already covered this one I believe…
5. Grief
   I know it might be asking a little much, and I’m not too sure if there’s anything I can do about it. I’m thinking it’s up to the universe really… but I’d just LOVE a break from the grief. Fuck, it’s been five long years of hauling my ass out of desperate times and a whole twelve months without any fresh crap would be such a relief.
6. Procrastination
   Aren’t we all acquainted with procrastination? Do we all intend to do something about it? When did I pencil that in to my diary again?? ;)
   Seriously though, I’ve learned the only way to deal with putting things off is to do them right away. Of course, that’s not always possible but ya gotta try, right?
7. Anxiety attacks
   Gargh! If you’re not too clear on what happens when someone has an anxiety attack, it can often result in horrible chest pains, a racing heartbeat and feelings of doom and despair. They last for hours or days, and often arrive with no warning. In my case, they most often happen when I’m really stressed.
   I’ve had so many of them now that I almost roll my eyes when the symptoms appear. Not that it lessens their intensity, but at least I know what they are now.
   I think this will be one of the things I work on with my kinesiology appointments in the new year. Otherwise, I’m not sure how to fix my stress reaction (which appears to be somewhat broken).
8. Excess possessions
   I’m pretty much on a mission to get rid of all the stuff with squatter’s rights at my place that I don’t absolutely need. It goes hand in hand with my plan to abscond from the western world of rampant consumerism. I’ll be working room by room and getting ruthless, then employing the likes of eBay, Gumtree, charity bins and maybe even garage sales. It’s all gotta go!
9. Foods I eat that I KNOW don’t work for me
   I don’t believe I have any really serious food allergies as such, but I do know that eating wheat causes me to feel bloated and tight in the belly. Almost like I’m so full that I might burst. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. Cheese is another one that doesn’t seem to go down well once I’ve eaten it (oh, beautiful blue cheese and brie!!).
   Really, if I’m serious about treating myself with more respect, then I’ll pay attention to this before I do end up with food allergies!
10. Staying up late
    This is one of my all-time love-hate things I do to myself. I know I don’t cope with getting up early unless I’ve had a full eight hours sleep. I also know that I LIKE to get up early to fit some yoga in before work. Being a pitta-kappha constitution, early mornings also work better for my mind. And yet, I’ll sit up late regardless and get by on seven or even six hours sleep. By Friday night, I’m exhausted and over-sleep on the weekends if I can get away with it.
    None of this is what you’d describe as productive. In fact, I wrote most of this post in the shadows of the midnight hour. Doh!
    Part of resolving this one is managing my time better in the evenings. Going out less during the week, spending less time mooching about on my laptop and taking a stronger commitment to doing the right thing by my body and mind.
11. My hermit tendencies
    Honestly, I’m concerned that I spend too much time alone. I like my own company and how stress-free alone time is. But I could do with a little balance in that department. I figure though, that if I keep my teaching work going then I’ll naturally be involved with more people. Dunno what else I’m gonna do about it. Kirtan is my main social activity other than teaching yoga. Should I join another social group? Hmmm…

~Svasti

Branches vs roots

Tags

Anxiety, Bad Old Days, branches, Change, clarity, cloud of doom, Confusion, Courage, dread, Expunged, Fear, gunk, Kinesiology, Nourishment, Panic, peace, Purged, remnants, roots, routed, self-honesty, source, That Which Has Been, Universe, wading boots

This entire universe and everything it contains comes from the same place. This I believe unreservedly.

Our roots are common, but it’s difficult to keep that in mind when you think of yourself as one of the branches somewhere at the top of the tree, far removed from the root system even as it ultimately provides the nourishment we need to exist.

We forget, and find it hard to identify with the whole tree, let alone the source of life that animates us. And we think that if we lose all or part of a branch or twig that we associate with ourselves, it’s a catastrophe. That life as we know it is over…

We get stressed, freaked out and whatever other reactions seem appropriate at the time. But this is just change. And our response to change is only as severe as our association with those things that are a-changing. To feel better, we have to learn to let go.

This concept can be applied to our lives at all kinds of macro and micro levels. Easier said than done sometimes, however!

And I’m reminding myself of this quite purposefully today as I prepare for this evening’s appointment with Kerry from Awaken Kinesiology.

I made the booking last month when I realised I was having some sort of intense energetic response to my five year anniversary. Because I want the remnants of all that gunk routed. Purged. Expunged. So bring it on!!

However, my body has other ideas and is bestowing a rather visceral response in anticipation of this appointment: fear in my belly, anxiety in my heart, confusion and panic in my mind (making things all cloudy and fluffy).

Seems crazy, this little cloud of doom I’m sporting on this gloriously blue-skied and sunny Spring day. The sunshine is matter of fact and reminds me that everything is going to be just fine. Yet, this morning I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed, like the Bad Old Days.

I know it’s all good and I WANT this for myself. Clearly though, there’s more than a few bits and pieces quietly haunting my insides. I function pretty normally now (whatever that means!) compared to how things have been. And maybe for some people that’d be enough. But it’s not enough for me, not by half.

So I’m pulling on my wading boots to trek through the muck. Time for another clean up, you see.

And it has to be done, despite the physical experience of dread that accompanies such ventures. This post is by way of gathering a little courage and exposing what’s going on in my body and mind for what it is: fear of change, even if that change is for the good.

I’m not just the branches, I’m the roots too. Especially the roots!

So here’s to more clarity, self-honesty, peace and freedom from the corset-like confines of That Which Has Been.

And here’s to a little more peace for y’all on this lovely day, too.

Om Shanti!

~Svasti xo

Mr Bear & the Bed of Thorns: A Fable

Tags

bear, bed of thorns, Courage, fable, Healing, healing is really hard work, Mr. Bear, strength, thorns, woods

Bear Coming Out of the Woods by Max Grover

One day Mr. Bear was happily walking in the woods, feeling pretty good about himself and about life in general. He felt soooo good on this particular day, especially when he spied a fantastic looking patch sunlit of grass that was begging to be rolled in. He couldn’t wait! So Mr. Bear gambolled towards it focused only on that juicy rolling spot, but as he came closer he found himself in the middle of some very nasty, sharp thorns! They were everywhere! They pierced his skin and embedded deeply in his body.

Rolling in the sun was forgotten. In fact, everything was forgotten! Mr. Bear cried and fell to the ground, only getting more thorns stuck in his coat. He yowled, growled and screamed. He lay on his back panting, bleeding. He wondered what had happened to him and how he could make the pain go away.

But he didn’t know what to do, and he couldn’t get the thorns out. Eventually, Mr Bear’s body adapted to the thorns and grew a protective coating around each one. Now Mr. Bear could move around without too much pain, as long as he was careful about things.

Mr. Bear lived like that for a long time. It wasn’t as though he could be his normal bear self – he was still in pain every day but it was easier to handle if he only did certain things and not others. So he learned to adapt. Mr. Bear became very withdrawn and didn’t like spending time with other bears, because it made him sad to see all the things he could no longer do. And because the thorns were invisible, none of the other bears could see that there was anything wrong with him.

But after a while, Mr. Bear’s body got sick of protecting him from the thorns and started to work at pushing them out! This caused a whole lot more pain – new pain, too. Different. It was sharp and extended pain, and knew he couldn’t do much about it. But it made him feel very irritable. That is, when he didn’t feel like crying. But in general bears don’t cry!! So Mr. Bear did his best to hold back his tears, no matter how much pain he was in.

A few weeks later, Mr. Bear came across a tree that looked as though it’d be useful for relieving an itch on his hind quarters. Very carefully, of course. While he scratched against the tree, he accidentally rubbed up against a thorn that was now sticking out half-way from one of his back legs. But he noticed too late and the rough tree bark caught on the thorn, pulling it all the way out!

Of course, that really hurt Mr. Bear a lot. But afterwards it was such a relief! So Mr. Bear formulated a plan and slowly over time, worked all of the thorns out in the same way.

Each time he managed to get another thorn out, he felt better. But he also felt weak, too. His body was sore and so used to holding on to all the pain that he realised he was tired from all the stress.

So Mr. Bear took it easy. He didn’t try to do it all in one day. He rested in between his efforts, getting as much food and sleep as he needed to face his next battle.

And when it was finally all over, Mr. Bear had an extra long rest. Because healing is really hard work…

*********************

I’ve been meaning to write this up for a while. It’s a story that’s been floating around my brain and kinda helped guide me through all the really tough times in recent years. I wrote a draft of it as a comment on someone else’s blog, and it was suggested that I post it here.

Basically, the moral of the story is: we can only keep our hurts inside our body and mind for so long. Eventually those thorns/splinters have to come out. Even if it hurts to remove them, it’s much better in the long run. Also, sometimes we’re in so much pain, we forgot how strong and capable we really are.

This little story is dedicated to everyone out there still dealing with their own world of thorns…

~Svasti

Courage

Tags

Assault, Courage, Fear, Memory loss, Therapy

I had a really great session with my therapist this week. H is a truly down to earth, realistic and caring person. She’s also fantastic at zeroing in on anything I’m stumbling over.

So just after I’d confessed on this blog how much trouble I’m having writing about the actual assault, she helped break down a few more of my blind spots.

I know some of the lovely people reading and commenting on my posts haven’t necessarily agreed that I should feel the need to write about this topic. But H thinks its good for me. She’s seen the benefits I’ve achieved from what I’ve written so far and she’s supportive.

There’s definitely a massive sense of panic and distress still associated with these memories. Whether I like it or not, if I start talking about it, its instant tears, raised heart rate and body temperature. Sometimes its easier to control than others, but the point is that I have to try to control it or I go to pieces. Not ideal.

H said, “I think for you to be able to get a handle on what happened, you need to face the fear and the panic. If you don’t, it won’t be possible for you to take the emotion out of that experience”.

Hmmm… good point. I know this of course. But it helped to have her re-state it anyway. So we talked.

It seems there’s a few key pillars.

The trauma associated with the assault has dulled my memories. To the point that the event often feels like a bad dream. Which was convenient when I was just trying to survive. But now, its a pain in my ass.

H also suggested that at some point, its possible I thought I would die. That he would kill me. He certainly seemed crazed enough. I think that on some level, she’s right.

There’s also the shock and the total loss of control I experienced. My gentle friend turning into a monster? Completely unexpected and outrageous things going on? Freaky shit, I’m telling you!

And of course, my internal Supreme Judge. If I could visualise him, I think he’s about 80 with grey hair, bushy eyebrows and both nose and ear hair. He’s all bent over, his skin is flecked and craggy. He has a comb over with what’s left of his thin whispy hair. He wears a dark grey suit and he walks with a limp. He has seen the worst of humanity and its left a deep imprint. He is narrow minded and he’s intolerant of weakness. He’s friggin’ scary!

I’ve written posts about this already, but I know the Supreme Judge seriously judged me as having failed. I failed to control the situation. I failed by having it end the way it did.

Crucially, in talking to my therapist, I remembered a teeny tiny detail – it was when I noticed Andre’s demeanour change. Not overtly. It was more like an internal… ‘click’. Something went ‘click’ and I felt it.

What happened just before the ‘click’ is that I started moving his belongings out onto the porch, trying to encourage him to leave. He hadn’t hit me yet.

And for this one action… I’ve been holding myself accountable. There’s been a game of ‘what if’ going on deep within. What if… I never touched his stuff. What if… I’d stopped trying to handle the situation myself and just called the police? What if… would things be different now? Is it possible he might not have assaulted me?

The catch-cry of those comforting people who’ve been assaulted or abused is ‘its not your fault’. I know. Its logical, and its true. I can use logic and reason til the cows come home. Intellectually I can explain an awful lot about what happened, why I think it happened etc. But the Judge still gives me a hard time.

And whilst I allow those memories to remain hazy and scary, the Judge remains. But I think I can change the paradigm if I confront the lurking ‘boogie men’.

What I really need right now is a good dose of courage. You know, just stating that fact… helps bring my courage into being. And now its slowly building.

I’m calling on all benevolent beings who hear this call for assistance to send me love and support. Ganesha, Yeshe Tysogel, Dattatreya, Siva, Sarasvati – and all mahasiddhas and enlightened beings! Please help me!!

I do promise, I’m not teasing any of the readers of this blog. I’m not being coy on purpose. Its just really f*cking hard to get it out.

BUT – I have started. I’m currently writing ‘stream of conciousness’ style which will need some re-shaping. And shortening!

And so, in the words of the Cowardly Lion:

Courage! What makes a king out of a slave? Courage! What makes the flag on the mast to wave? Courage! What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the “ape” in apricot? What have they got that I ain’t got?

Courage!

~Svasti

Dragging my heels

Tags

Anxiety, Assault, Confusion, Courage, Fear, Memory loss, Procrastination, Trauma, Violence

I admit it, I’ve been putting off my next post – which is not this one.

Ever since I decided my next post would be about the actual assault and not the direct aftermath or any of the myriad of related topics… I’ve found many reasons for not sitting down to write in more detail about the night that brought drastic changes to my life.

The two strong contributing factors are confusion and fear.

Speaking on behalf of my confusion – I actually don’t remember that night too well. Not the part of the night that’s “pre-assault” anyway. Well, that’s not entirely true. I do recall that Andre was coming over to drop off money I was owed and that he stayed for dinner. I vibrantly recall that I made pumpkin soup for dinner. Really great pumpkin soup actually. I remember that he played some guitar for me (he is a jazz/blues musician). And branded on my brain is the moment everything turned bad.

But after that… its not entirely clear. The order that things happened in. The exact chain of events. How I ended up standing so close to him that he could – without me seeing his arm move – punch me in the face.

Its a ghostly memory of a movie. One you’ve seen before and sort of know the details. But when you watch the movie again, everything comes back to you. And so I know what’s waiting for me.

As for fear – the twisting and churning of my stomach as I draw those memories up from their hidey hole is sickening. I feel my internal temperature rise, the skin tightening in my body and face, and the definite sensation of wishing I could throw up even though I don’t have the urge in any way. The tears well, and my eyeballs sting.

It was much easier to write about the direct aftermath – what happened after he finally left. Why? Well, time slowed down. I was living microsecond to microsecond. Everything moment was enhanced by the fear, the shaking, the crying and the pain. In some ways, perhaps this too, has played a part in sending the ‘just before’ memories into the background?

Despite all this, I’m determined to write this story. I need to write it. To get it out. I’m at a loss in terms of where to start, but I know that to find the words, I need to journey further. Deeper.

The creative urge and desire for truth to come out are ready to go. Its just my courage that’s having a few issues here. But its coming…

~Svasti