From time to time, the conversation between my husband and myself will wander onto our early childhoods. His happy memories relate to the natural world. He spent considerable time watching the life of bugs. He loved to ride horses. He enjoyed being outside. Inside, he remembers baking with his mother.
Most of all, I think his happy memories are about a sense of freedom in the wide world; being on the farm and taking the cousins to hunt for rabbits, for example. Maybe, in those situations there was no worry or concern about his role in the family, about accomplishing much of anything; about the expectations of others. For those moments, I think he was in a state of Being.
Now that I have access to that feeling - to simply Be - my mind will sometimes try to return to any feelings I might have naturally experienced of Presence as a young child, before I made it a mission to find that freedom for myself in later life.
Unfortunately, I must come to the conclusion that that sort of freedom really did elude me. I remember certain moments; the pleasure of a meal made by an Italian woman who prepared me my meals; the relief of a cool change after a particularly hot day; getting off my school socks and shoes; soaking in the bath. I don't think I was especially open to the sensual world of the five senses, but nor was I closed to it.
But, that's not exactly the same thing. Sure, we can experience a state of Being through the senses, the natural world, but I am referring to a state of Knowing, where, regardless of how life plays out, there's a sense of peace that sits behind that. I didn't have that at all.
In fact, I think that it is more the case that there was an overwhelming and pervading sense of anxiety, of something not being quite right about me, that I didn't fit into the family; that I was being asked to live a lifestyle that didn't suit me at all, and when that was noted, that I felt shunned for noting it.
I'm not complaining here, what would be the point of that? Rather, I am making note of the fact that when I began 'the search', became a 'seeker', it was with a sense that there had to be more than I had experienced so far.
I don't mean travel, since I had done that already. I don't mean motherhood, which of course I had experienced in spades, or amazing sex, which I had also been privileged to experience many times. Rather, I wanted to know what it felt to be 'free', to feel at peace, to let go of expectations (which I had already gathered in my 20s was an important thing for me to accomplish).
In some respects, this was about my desire to let go of 'shoulds'. I should be more gregarious. I should be more ambitious. I should be more talkative. I should be more relaxed around strangers. I should always put others first. I should try harder to keep all the balls in the air, not relaxing for the great fear that I should drop one of them; that I should make a mistake; that I should let somebody down.
In an important way, the search was about learning to be comfortable with being me and presenting myself to the world just as I am; fallible and carrying shame about being Me.
In another important way, the search was about accepting my vulnerabilities - that I tend towards being overly empathic - and that I had somehow instinctively come to believe that someone else - a very special relationship - would enable me to live in peace, to finally experience the Freedom that had eluded me in childhood, and which I had erroneously believed all children were capable of experiencing. Perhaps the word for that state could be 'innocence'. I didn't have that.
The special moments of joy I have experienced cannot be forgotten. Sometimes they have been in BDSM spaces and sometimes not at all; sometimes out in nature with my husband; sometimes alone on a mountain top; sometimes in meditation. The joy fills every cell, radiates everywhere in my body. I call these experiences full body orgasms. It's like the sun has warmed me from the inside out.
I am happy to report that now, as well as those rare moments of pure joy, I often simply glide through my life, regardless of the days events, soaking in a quiet sense of Presence; a sense of all being well and as it should be which sits underneath the happenings of life; a sense of stillness and aliveness together with a sense of Isniss; no desire at all to make it more, or better, than it is. The word for that state could be 'acceptance'.
This settled sense of life, my life, has been hard won. It began as misery, agony; more emotional pain than I wondered if I could bare. It is said it often goes this way. This is how it starts. In this way, I have made sense of my life. It not only went the way it went. It could not have gone any other way.
Most of all, I think his happy memories are about a sense of freedom in the wide world; being on the farm and taking the cousins to hunt for rabbits, for example. Maybe, in those situations there was no worry or concern about his role in the family, about accomplishing much of anything; about the expectations of others. For those moments, I think he was in a state of Being.
Now that I have access to that feeling - to simply Be - my mind will sometimes try to return to any feelings I might have naturally experienced of Presence as a young child, before I made it a mission to find that freedom for myself in later life.
Unfortunately, I must come to the conclusion that that sort of freedom really did elude me. I remember certain moments; the pleasure of a meal made by an Italian woman who prepared me my meals; the relief of a cool change after a particularly hot day; getting off my school socks and shoes; soaking in the bath. I don't think I was especially open to the sensual world of the five senses, but nor was I closed to it.
But, that's not exactly the same thing. Sure, we can experience a state of Being through the senses, the natural world, but I am referring to a state of Knowing, where, regardless of how life plays out, there's a sense of peace that sits behind that. I didn't have that at all.
In fact, I think that it is more the case that there was an overwhelming and pervading sense of anxiety, of something not being quite right about me, that I didn't fit into the family; that I was being asked to live a lifestyle that didn't suit me at all, and when that was noted, that I felt shunned for noting it.
I'm not complaining here, what would be the point of that? Rather, I am making note of the fact that when I began 'the search', became a 'seeker', it was with a sense that there had to be more than I had experienced so far.
I don't mean travel, since I had done that already. I don't mean motherhood, which of course I had experienced in spades, or amazing sex, which I had also been privileged to experience many times. Rather, I wanted to know what it felt to be 'free', to feel at peace, to let go of expectations (which I had already gathered in my 20s was an important thing for me to accomplish).
In some respects, this was about my desire to let go of 'shoulds'. I should be more gregarious. I should be more ambitious. I should be more talkative. I should be more relaxed around strangers. I should always put others first. I should try harder to keep all the balls in the air, not relaxing for the great fear that I should drop one of them; that I should make a mistake; that I should let somebody down.
In an important way, the search was about learning to be comfortable with being me and presenting myself to the world just as I am; fallible and carrying shame about being Me.
In another important way, the search was about accepting my vulnerabilities - that I tend towards being overly empathic - and that I had somehow instinctively come to believe that someone else - a very special relationship - would enable me to live in peace, to finally experience the Freedom that had eluded me in childhood, and which I had erroneously believed all children were capable of experiencing. Perhaps the word for that state could be 'innocence'. I didn't have that.
The special moments of joy I have experienced cannot be forgotten. Sometimes they have been in BDSM spaces and sometimes not at all; sometimes out in nature with my husband; sometimes alone on a mountain top; sometimes in meditation. The joy fills every cell, radiates everywhere in my body. I call these experiences full body orgasms. It's like the sun has warmed me from the inside out.
I am happy to report that now, as well as those rare moments of pure joy, I often simply glide through my life, regardless of the days events, soaking in a quiet sense of Presence; a sense of all being well and as it should be which sits underneath the happenings of life; a sense of stillness and aliveness together with a sense of Isniss; no desire at all to make it more, or better, than it is. The word for that state could be 'acceptance'.
This settled sense of life, my life, has been hard won. It began as misery, agony; more emotional pain than I wondered if I could bare. It is said it often goes this way. This is how it starts. In this way, I have made sense of my life. It not only went the way it went. It could not have gone any other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment