January has been a time of non-time. I admit that while I'm not always the most linear person, I do have awareness of time, in general, than I give myself credit for. This wasn't even about linear or non linear time, it's been an out of universe time... if that makes sense. I have been so grounded outside of myself, feeling like much of my being has been extending itself beyond this realm, I have been in this mental universe of observation. Different observation than I am used to. It was clear, quiet, numb in a way that isn't dysfunctional, almost deafening. It's been strange, and it borders on crazy, a good crazy, but a disconnected kind of crazy... I've been taking this month to connect with Self, but in that process I know I have been disconnecting from others. No one in particular, simply everything as I keep both hands firmly on my inner cord, looking for the source of direction, passion, the ultimate wonder of purpose. It feels like it's slightly shifted, but the foundation seemingly remains the same.
I've been journaling a lot the past few weeks... a lot. Much of January has been so in-depth of diving head first into fear, it's been such a long month. I didn't care what the fear was, if it was big or small, if it had cords attached to other fears... it didn't matter, I was ready to dive in blindly, and so I did.
What did I discover?
F-E-A-R... deeper than I imagined, deeply embedded, no label attached or direction for use... it was fear. Multi-layered, mosaic-patterned, rainbows of colors that ranged from deeply bright and intoxicating to dark and muddy and dangerous... I think, in general, this isn't the wisest approach for one to take. I advocate to my students and clients that it's a process of peeling away at the layers bit by bit. Don't look at the whole, look at the part, without judgment of size, and go from there. The mockery of the saying "do as I say, not as I do" dances around foolishly here...
However, this was my approach. I felt ready, needing to take a dive without any equipment by my side, though the reality is I had it naturally there. The thing about losing people around you is that you take time to reevaluate your life, your purpose, your connection, then, at some point, you potentially forget about it, return to old ways, old behaviors, old thought patterns, and it's as though nothing has shifted. Jonathan and Amy are still on my mind, the human aspect of myself reflecting back on linear time of age and sequence of life... I mourned, I rejoiced, I shattered, I celebrated... but did I learn?
In many ways, yes. In others? I let the fear convince me I was, when I soulfully knew better.
So I dived. Head first, bare feet, into what I told myself was unknown territory within, but it's a manifestation of me, my life, my fears, my desires, my karma, my pain, it all comes from me. Granted some could be taken on from other people, old programs, even old thievery of something I thought I identified with but perhaps really didn't. Still, it's mine, I wasn't expecting to be surprised, I was hoping to be awake.
I can't say that I uncovered all of it, it would be foolish and completely egotistical to even think I could uncover all these years in this lifetime of fear. No, I didn't uncover it all, but I uncovered an aspect that I really, honestly didn't know I had buried there.
It's odd to say that the thing you fear scares you, but that the discovery of that fear wasn't scary. It wasn't scary like a masked horror following you around (then again I do scare fairly easy there!); it was painful though. I didn't anticipate the pain, this wound that would open up and seep from the inside out. I was wearing my fear. I almost felt paranoid in it, like others could see it, hear it, perhaps taste it and judge me. I don't care much for judgment, but let's face it, it's there, I think to some degree we all wonder. Wonderment isn't the same as obsession.
The paranoia was good. It was. It was good in that I needed to face it. I felt ready to address it in the form it took, but that process was slower, like walking through sticky sludge, my feet felt slower, my legs struggling, my arms free, however, to hold on, to stop myself in my tracks, but I kept looking, kept asking, kept being...
Part of my journey into rebirth is a journey through fear as well. It's not to give power to the fear; it had power. It's discovery and awareness, perhaps even re-discovery. The "out-of-universe" feeling makes more sense with the delving. The experience isn't to be confused with darkness. It wasn't dark. There was darkness there, and it had remnants of pain, emotional pain that was attached to it, but that pain wasn't... painful. It makes no sense, in the written word, in the relay of the experience, and I don't want to attach words to an experience that might shift the core of its purpose: discovery.
I'm processing through it, in this dimension of reality, because this is where, currently, it affects me most. Granted the other day in a fit from the inner rebel (even inner child), I threw my hands in the air and declared it all "bullshit". It was a funny moment, a light-hearted and sarcastic approach to healing.