Stripping it away

I've been combating this possible cold that has been sniffing around me for weeks now, and while it's been common that once my birthday arrives I generally fall ill, the mentality that it's part of my annual cleanse, however this year I was determined to rise above the need to cleanse in a physical manner that required me to have a fever, stuffy nose and feeling like death under layers of blankets.  No, this year I wouldn't get sick... yesterday I wasn't too sure.  Feeling feverish, head all foggy, I was sure the inevitable would happen, and part of me felt like maybe it was a good excuse for some much needed mental rest to re-access some things I've been mentally working on shifting.  Maybe the potential cold would do me a favor in the moment...

Where was much of the discomfort of this potential cold stemming from?  The throat.  Why am I not surprised?  I have a long relationship with my throat, stemming from birth where I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my throat, turning me blue... even then, a carry-over from the previous life of throat chakra issues came in tow through utero, and it's something I still work on keeping open, flowing, loving, vibrating in a way that serves instead of imprison.  It's quite rare, now, that my throat acts up as it used to.  In those moments of actively working on communication with Self and standing in the center of my own authenticity, yes, it's rare to have my throat feel abandoned or ignored or manipulated.

However, for about the past week it's been slowly acting up.  Throat "frogging" up when trying to speak, the constant need to clear my throat, others asking over and over if I was sick, listening to my voice lose itself day by day... what wasn't I saying?  Was there a truth that needed to be spoken?

I'm an avid journaler as anyone who really knows me knows too well.  It's not quite the same as blogging, this is seductive illusion through the hand-written word, perfect and enticing, my favorite form of connection to self.  I've been journaling a lot the past few days, peeling away more layers that have surfaced.  Nothing "big", but then again there's no room for measurement in spiritual journeys.  "Big" or "small" is indifferent, it's about the process of what becomes from these layers revealed.

I had no immediate answers, none that really spoke to me about why my throat was acting up.  Fear, yes, that was an obvious, but fear of what?  Not the "usual" fear -- it wasn't painful, just there.  I wasn't upset I couldn't identify it, I knew in time it would be revealed, in fact I was probably more patient this time than in years before.  I didn't "need" to know the answer, I just wanted to understand what area of myself felt like it was, well, trapped of sorts.

My friend Amy who had passed so suddenly in November had been on my mind a lot.  Her and Jonathan in fact, both for different reasons, both making my heart ache and feeling this sort of instant panic about loss.  I'm not use to that kind of loss, and I felt like a small child afraid she would never see anyone again.  I think to some degree I still feel that way.  It's another layer of healing that has surfaced, but that's not what this was about necessarily.

Amy had come to me last week in this clear vision reminding me of her best friend, J.  J and I met years ago, took an instant liking and connection to each other, he was the one who introduced Amy to me.  Both commenting on how much of a teacher I felt to them on this path... both giving me too much credit for not recognizing that a great bulk of their personal work was a reflection of their own inner light.  Though I appreciate their gratitude immensely.

J had been falling into a downward spiral since Amy's death.  I had no idea.  No, that's not entirely true.  I suspected this would happen.  Sitting in the ICU with him and L and Amy, she was so clear there, even in that unconscious state, that her death would be harmful for him, to him and those around him.  I knew this was a potential, hoped it wouldn't come to this, and was in my own mourning of the people I had lost, trying to "balance" everything when really I was simply ignoring it all.  I just needed to figure out where I was -- after all, healing must begin with the self.

I received a message from J's fiance, L, telling me about what had been going on, how he had a dream, the same day I had my vision of Amy, that she came to him telling him to contact me.  He doesn't know me very well, in fact we have only met twice, but this was a clear message he didn't ignore, as J had always told him if anything should happen that I should be notified immediately... and so I was.

Yesterday, feeling at my worst with this potential cold attempting to override my system, J called me.  It had been 2 days since I had spoken with L, two days since leaving J a message on his phone, 2 days of waiting and hoping.

The conversation lasted 3 hours, much to my throat's slight aggravation over the constant overuse of energy it wasn't necessarily willing to extend, but in the end, it was exactly what my throat needed.  That conversation was for both of us.  Me listening, understanding where he was at, because I can really only understand something that makes sense to me if I have, to some degree, been through it myself.

It was clear that sharing those layers, these truths that I have slowly opened up about, was what he most needed to hear.  A dear friend has heard some of them recently, but still, it's not an advertised truth.  It's personal, it's fear, it's shame...

It's shame.

Who generously shares their shame with others?  Not as a toxic poison to throw at someone else and make it about them, convincing them that your shame is really theirs, or theirs to blame... a personal shame that is shared as awareness... as a method of healing.  Whose healing?  It's universal.

Part of the reason why much of my work has been so focused on womyn's empowerment is because it's part of my own truth of empowering myself, and I feel strongly about sharing those steps and tools with other womyn.  It's not to negate men's mysteries, for I have worked with men with similar steps, but naturally womyn's mysteries is what I lean towards.

The sharing of the story, of the self-proclaimed (illusionary and judgmental) "shame", is something the Goddess has been asking me to be open with.  It's healing, for me, clearly as evidence of last night's conversation and today feeling as though there was never a throat issue to begin with, but also for others, in non-ego, just from those who have relayed what my own journey has meant for them, in discovering and uncovering their own personal truths. 

I've received several emails the past two weeks about how "inspirational" my words are and how healing they have been... I admit to having moments of shock there.  I think in this framework I often question why I bother, in this form, to share those aspects.  Not so much a "what's the point" mentality, but simply this question of why.  Then I let it go and focus on my own truth.

Do I fear the judgment?  To some extent, I think there is natural fear in not wanting others to judge you in a way that makes you "wrong".  Then again, we're the only ones who can really make ourselves wrong... and when deciding to make ourselves anything, why wouldn't we simply choose spirit?  Why wouldn't I choose spirit?

J spent a near hour crying at my story.  Crying, because, in part, he could see his own story there, and, to some degree, I know it made the world of difference to hear it outside of himself.  There's this universal aspect where, as human beings, we naturally want to be understood by someone.  Some One.  One.  It's human nature.  And in sharing it, it makes me more human.

I'm human.  I have flaws.  I have imperfections.  I have stories I'm not proud of.  I have stories that make me sick, make me angry, make me scared.  Of course, the opposite is true as well.  It's not simply about the shadow, it's a balance in light as well.  It doesn't matter how spiritual you are.  I think some of the most amazing spiritual beings I have met on this planet have been those who have willingly (and not at times) faced their shadows head on.  Not with ego in mind, not with an ounce of anything to prove, but simply because at some point we must.  You either play the same tapes over and over, or you choose to record something new.

As I said to J last night, that aspect of myself is still someone I know, I recognize her, but I'm not her.  There is an important difference there.

It felt like layers being stripped away last night.  The deeper message of my throat chakra needing to speak my truth wasn't something I identified as that being the truth needing to be spoken.  And maybe it didn't need to be shared outside of myself, with anyone, but I trusted that's where I was being led, and in the end I am grateful, for the voice that allowed the story to come through, to myself for the willingness to not be afraid of something that might sound shameful, and to J, for holding the space to receive the story as he needed to hear it, and as I needed to say it.

Today?  My throat feels great.

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