As I continue to work through what is turning out to be a long, slow, deep healing of my deep routed sense of worthlessness that can be traced back to me as a three-year-old boy, I notice a sort of grieving is taking place. Not intense, but distinctly grieving; grieving for the buried pain I suffered, secretly thinking I was worthless yet I wasn’t even aware I carried this huge burden on my back for nearly five decades.
I have noticed this grief coming up in very short bursts for a week or two and it my suddenly lead to a welling of emotion and then a tear, sometimes a desires for more, for stronger outbursts to release the buried pain from deep down inside, locked away in the apparently lost annals of my memories.
But today it became apparent to me that I wanted to just let these feeling surface and come out, even stirring them to release and dispel them once and for all. Yet I desperately try to find a trigger for them, as if squeezing out puss from a vast boil in one’s deepest recesses, yet I must be patient and let nature take its course.
I can feel a deep desire from within to be rid of this horrid poison that has been denied for too long and shut away behind cast iron walls inside my being. Five decades is too long to have borne this sadness, this chain on my heart. I want to be free to yet another height, on a journey that resembles a lifelong climb of an infinite mountain.
What I see is that through patience and acceptance, I go with the flow of the healing, letting the pain surface, not to be dwelt upon, studied or analysed but simply let out, as one would burn off excess gas without looking into its make-up and what led to it. Simply letting it go with gratitude and without getting caught up in the story behind the sadness avoids feeding it and increasing its hold over me. Again, I just “observe and let go” and remember “it is not who I am”!
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