I always say I am not much of a journaler… but I have 20 years of journals here.
Sometimes I tell #1husband, should I croak unexpectedly, forget making me look presentable…go find those journals and burn them!
More and more, I realize there are stories I am carrying that need to go.
These are stories which aren’t serving me… but they’re inside me still. These little light nibblers get in the way, sucking up the juju available.
In the way.
Holding me back.
Informing my NOW with stories about can’t, won’t and don’t.
I call them the Horrible Uglies because they’re just that: horrible and ugly moments from my life which are hard.
And I am not just talking about the times when things were done TO me, but times when I’ve done them to others.
Times I deeply regret.
Times I’ve apologized for, and more to come. Way more. And… I have to let myself off the hook too.
Yes, I have my practices and my friends often tell me they are impressed at how I am able to stay in my center and to “not go there,” but still, there are still stories I have not told, things that are so uncomfortable that I haven’t even allowed myself to unpack them.
They’re there… and I can acknowledge them but it’s more like a cluttered room that you know is there, but you choose to close the door again and again. And then the company wants to come over and asks to see the room. Why do they always ask to see the room???
Believe me, it’s not the stuff you put on a blog. It’s barely stuff I like to say out loud. And really, that’s okay.
Maybe it’s enough for me to share with you that there are more stories ready to come out. I am ready to sit with them, to look, to explore. Something in me is feeling strong enough and ready to go there privately, in my own time with my own heart and my own writing.
I am scared. I am willing. I am courageous. I am ready. It is time.
You have this too. Right?
There are stories you carry which are in your way. The Horrible Uglies you don’t want to tell because they are hard to sit with, hard to live with. And still, that stuff is inside you, festering and informing your NOW moments too.
These are the kinds of stories which come to us unbidden. They smack us in the face. Right inside that smack, we’ve got this split second where we try and ignore it or swallow it down again, but we can rise too.
WE CAN RISE!
I don’t know about you but I think it’s really hard to rise when something is holding me down and so I take to my journal. I let myself write it all out–swear words and all the blame, shame, and terrible uglies I can muster. I know it doesn’t sound very spiritual. But really, it has to come out. (That’s my burn journal I’m holding. Fill it up and burn it when you’re done.)
I had an uncle who would fart and then he would say, it has to come out–it doesn’t pay rent! I always remember that and laugh. These stories inside of us, festering have to come out too.
Like spiritual farting perhaps.
I talk to enough friends in a week to know I am not the only one. Each of us has had Horrible Uglies happen. The big ticket items from our past are waiting for us to release the old energies they hold. Once released, that energy will be transformed into POWER.
For those of us interested in going bigger, it’s important to dig deeper and make space for this to happen.
It is time to let that energy be transformed. We can stop holding ourselves hostage. We can forgive it and let it go. If we don’t do that, we can pretty much count on stale, stagnant, repetitive energies for the rest of our days.
The truth is: Everyone is free to go at their own pace on this journey. If somebody wants to harbor resentment/hold grudges/stay angry about it, that’s their right. It is. We all have the same opportunities to practice, and some of us choose to do it and some of us choose not to. My policy is to extend everyone the courtesy to be who they choose to be, right along with myself.
I choose to fart 😉
I am done with the drama.
I am done with beating myself up about the things that happened.
I am done repenting.
Ready to make room for new, vibrant, abundant possibilities… what about you?