Rootless

For the first time in my life I no longer have to run away to be able to cope – I can run towards something instead. It is a shift…

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For a few days I couldn’t ground myself to write. Rather than punishing myself I try to reflect;

If I am careless with my routines – especially those grounding me and caring for myself – then I am easier swept away by other’s agendas and influence.

In a situation where you restart beyond zero – the vulnerability is genuinely on the outside. The pain from what seems irrelevant small issues goes right through and there is no protection. And feelings are energy. And afterwards it happens I feel like a wet spot on the ground, desperately trying to rise rather than vanishing down, through the earth, into another world down under.

As a child my references for security was places and not people. My mother had a house, which she mismanaged so much I had to live with my grandmother. We kept the house as a summer and weekend house. It was my whole world. Maybe because it was where I could flee from violence and harsh words in to the world of the nature and the animals. I know those forests like my own pocket.

Eventually my mother let someone else sell it. Someone bought it for a bargain price and burned it down…Every time I do a vision board or something similar there is always a house there. A house where people can come and go, but I am always at home there. With my children and my animals.

For the first time in my life I no longer have to run away to be able to cope – I can run towards something instead. It is a shift that I can literally feel through my whole system – not fully established yet, but on its way – I am rootless-ly flying through my own universe like a pulled up plant looking for a place to settle.

Without my parents I suddenly look for my own culture again. The language, the songs, the views and the smells. Is there a home in me I can not deny no matter how far I travelled? Re-connecting.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t hurry it to be over.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t go back.

It is uncomfortable, but I can’t stop it.

I am in the air – on my way home…

321 signals to go.

I am Malin and you call me George?

Maybe men identify with the suffering on the cross – however I am certain women cringe every time we see, hear or witness any harm done to any child, girl, woman, mother, grandma – physical OR verbal. We burn. That is the feeling we know.

Every morning I do some spiritual reading. ACIM (A Course In Miracles)most of the time.

And now I have a question to those who knows this better than me:

I can ground myself.

I can feel the earth under my feet and resonate with it.

I can co-create and all sort of amazing things fly through my mind.

I understand the emotional concept of the Father and Mother Earth.

I can feel the sense of all mighty protection and divine creativity and safety.

Every time there is an exercise where I have to meditate or think in the lines of “You are a Son of God”it slips through my fingers…

It feels like I am Malin and you call me George.

Why are we not Children of God? Or if I really want to dig deep – Daughters of God?

I fully comprehend and understand the concept of equality – but do we have to be in denial about diversity that makes every individual unique? So special?

I am not big on using the word God to begin with – even if I understand it – I am however big on feeling it and experiencing it.

Maybe men identify with the suffering on the cross – however I am certain women cringe every time we see, hear or witness any harm done to any child, girl, woman, mother, grandma – physical OR verbal. We burn. That is the feeling we know.

You may be my Brother, but I am your Sister. And we all belong together.

That is what I know.

You write Son. I read Daughter. You say George. I hear Malin.

Connecting my dots.

Is this off path?

331 signals home.

Image courtesy to Hyena reality at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

 

Resistance

It talks they say.

I try to listen.

Sometimes I wish to just scream “ I’m just tired ok!”…

It talks they say.

I try to listen.

Sometimes I wish to just scream “ I’m just tired ok!”.

I need to sort out business, my life, prepare rehearsals, finish a book script, do fund raising for one of my projects, build a new network in a new industry, study and do tons of research, sort my mother’s affairs, manage animals and kids, be the taxi driver, take care of myself – did I say that already? – no? – there you go…

I used to think that if it was something I resisted and I did it anyway – despite feeling u-n-c-o-m-f-o-r-t-a-b-l-e – that would be good. And that things I resisted where I plainly avoided them would make me b-a-d.

I am not so sure anymore.

Doing something that you really resist, as in breaking new grounds or compounding something, can be next to addictive. Keeping you on a high – for too long.

Things I avoid that makes me feel really bad has taught me at least two things. One is that feeling that bad as I do/did is simply a sign of guilt over something, that I have to ask myself really deeply if I could have controlled? Most of the time that wasn’t the case. Things just are sometimes. Good intentions and all I also have to surrender and maybe this is what it is teaching me?

The other thing is – more importantly – when someone tries to guilt ride me and I go on that trip with them, eventually I risk that it becomes detrimental. So I have to resist. I have to keep distance and not take things to heart. Because my heart really does takes to it.

I wish I could say ”I’m sorry, but if I get involved and personally invested I will have a heart attack”…

I tried twice and both ended in me being accused of even worse. So no point.

Often I am just quiet. I am there and I think that would make whoever feel that I attend their issue, but no. They talk themselves into the most fascinated conclusions taking my lines too.

So I burn. I burn from energy of the fear, the unfairness, the hurt, the guilt I take in from others. So unless I have had the time to protect myself beforehand I now simply don’t interact.

So maybe it isn’t resistance, but self-care. And when I do this I can keep the distance to see if this all comes from other things. Unknowingly I triggered something? But that is ok.

By keeping myself emotionally clean I can see their innocence. Even my own.

Things can be un-done.

So resistance is after all good. It tells me where I am emotionally vulnerable, over engaged or not letting something go when it is passed my mental due date.

344 signals to go.