How do we know what we really feel?
Yesterday I had a Rosen Method bodywork session with my good friend Karen. I had come to see that I wasn't completely comfortable with this diagnosis of cancer, even though it was a slow-growing cancer, and the margins came out "clear".
I was traumatized, yes, I'll use that word. I was literally "scared stiff". My spine had lost its bend. I was ram-rod straight. It took the Rosen session for me to truly feel that fear, to not dismiss the experience with "well, it all came out all right as everyone said it would," because it's bigger than that. I am quick to settle back into that everything is okay, and it is, and everything is change, and it is, and, I don't really know what i want to say here, except to say that i am working with vulnerability, and fragility. I want to be able to feel and say, "I'm scared. This is scary. No one told me it was going to be this scary. I didn't know."
I feel like I did when I was in labor with my first child. "Oh, this is more than I bargained for", and then, of course, there is reward.
I am an adult. I think I should know what is going on and be "tough", and yet, today, I feel like a baby newly emerged from the womb.
What's here now, I ask, as I look around feeling courage as heart, softening heart, softening, softening, until there is mush, gently tenderized with the salt of tears.
I love it here, and one day, like ripened fruit, I'll leave the tree and fall to earth to berth and birth.
