So, between the betrayals, the deceptions, the confessions, the forgivenesses, the blessings, the celebrational envy-of-the-joy-of-others, the survival of Vendetta Day (some of you may call it "Valentine's Day" - the day we observe the obligational-affectionary spewing of Pepto-Bismol-pink all over creation, or at least the stores), some anniversarial triggerings, some intensely emotional conversations, the loss of my longest-ever friendship, an expensive SNAFU-lesson with Verizon, the painfully-difficult standing-of-my-ground, and an infected eye (yes, one really must remove the contact on occasion), I heard one major message:
IT'S TIME FOR ME TO LIVE MY LIFE...!
Because, when all is said and done, I am all I have.
My soul, the little stinker, apparently asked for this ... because my soul knows what my mind doesn't yet: that I can handle this, that I even required this, that all this is valid, necessary, for my growth, evolution, expansion.
I've known this for a long while now ... it started when I cried out for "truth at all cost" ... that was 8 years ago, almost 9.
I knew this when I questioned everything ... when I started losing friends, left and right ... when I left my marriage ... when I did a series of emotional-bungee-jumping cliff-dives ... when I said "yes" to the divine plan ... when I renewed that "yes" more than once ... when I experienced a shamanic ceremony, and saw/heard/felt/smelled/tasted the words, "Sudden and Complete Life Change - From Now On Nothing Remains The Same!"
Ok ... but somehow, part of me thought, or at least hoped, it would be a bit more ... comfy. Or at least less excruciating. Less agonizing.
I wonder ... how long shall reeling be my modus operandii...?
Or ... is it just that I need a perspective-tweaking ... a shift in how I think, how I label what I experience?
I mean, is running out of toilet paper TRULY a death-defying situation ...?
I had a conversation today, with Sarah Ross, a life-coach (I keep attracting life-coaches ... hmmmm...). I whined and groused and vented and dumped what I wrote above, about "the horrendously epic week" ... and she summed it up like this:
"I am so happy and grateful that you feel the blesings, even when they are messy and look like crap, frankly."
Messy-crap blessings. (oooooh, see how this ties into the toilet paper trauma?!?)
Divine-dichotomies, all ...
Which is fitting since I am a divinely-dichotomous, fully-human sort of woman.
So, Sarah asked me who I am... I AM an expression of The Divine, here in human form, cleverly disguised as Dena.
She asked me to articulate my vision of me ... so, in the midst of some rather painful emotions, some strangling fears, and some severe doubts ... I intentionally expanded that narrowed tunnel-vision I was self-confined in, and dared to say:
Strong, confident ... inspiring others ... speaking, writing, acting, painting, dancing ... living fully ... relationships restored ... a life-partner with me, sharing life, co-healing, co-inspiring, co-creating ... experiencing abundant provision, giving to others ... enJOYing life, fully ... all aspects, welcoming whatever emotion comes along, receiving/allowing the messages ... growing, evolving, expanding ... exploring heights and depths ... authentically intimate, passionate, unleashed ...!
I have always sensed that I was "sent" here for a big mission. Yeah, I'm fully aware of the grandiosity of that ... and yet, the simplicity of that (ha - another dichotomy!). And lately, I have felt derailed, inept, incompetent ... THAT, I believe, is what I have most-grieved. The loss of my purpose, my meaning, my vision, my gifts, my mission.
I AM re-claiming this. I AM re-membering this. I AM re-cognizing this. I AM real-eyes-ing this.
Living small is not serving me, nor anyone else ...
I AM daring to show up ... to live my life ... to be me ... to take risks ... to make mistakes ... to be gloriously-messy ... to NOT hold back ... to not live-small ... to not shut-down, or numb-out ...
I AM going to survive, and thrive ... even if it kills me ...
So be it.