Pain suits

I might be harping on about this but if there are other angles maybe it will better resonate.

An analogy. Kinda…

I was born pure and pain free into a world that hasn’t been free from pain for a long, long, long time. Everyone I met from day one had pain. Some more than others, but everyone had endured suffering. Some wore it gracefully, others wore it honestly, some wore it with anger and vengeance, but mostly people wore it blindly.

I stored up pain. I stored up other people’s pain as my own – they instructed me on my worth, on my value, on my level of safety based on the level of comfort they had in their own pain endurance. I created a bank where I could make deposits and withdrawals of suffering as and when required. This bank had an endless supply because I could refill it as fast as I could empty it. I was using it to repay debts, I was spending it positively, I was saving it up for a rainy day… pain became a currency to me.

We are glorious!

When I got up I felt the stress of failing to prepare for today getting louder. I had a major grump on some rice crispies and then my friend kindly entertained bambino whilst I showered and got myself ready. Breathwork never fails to connect me back to a better mind state. Actually that’s bollocks. It often fails, but nevermind. Let’s pretend for now, because that is another blog. I used the water of the shower to imagine a better mood pouring into my crown and filling me with insight and awareness about what the fuck I was going to say today. I sang too. Not words but just sounds. Trying to find and clear my voice so I could hear my heart not my chattery brain. Eventually it all clicked and I wasn’t nervous again until I felt jelly legged when queuing outside the room before starting.

Let it go, let it in

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Tomorrow I am doing a talk at my friend’s spiritual health and well-being fair, Souls Awakening. I felt I had to volunteer myself for it towards the end of last year, even though I was in the shittttttest of shitty stressful times, heavily pregnant, essentially homeless, hating on life and angrily daydreaming ways to singlehandedly take down the state. I survived (so did the state) and I still don’t know much about what I’m going to say tomorrow. If I stand there whole-heartedly and talk as freely as I’m able, I know what needs to be heard will come out, because it’s happened before on many occasions…but it’s a little bit daunting…