Being Seen

Winter-2020 (7)

Once again, my body is sore today. This time with added nausea and sufficient back pain to keep me from being in one position for very long. With this energy, I chose to go to the beach and record some songs. It’s an experiment in being seen, feeling into what it was to be recorded, and hopefully if I summon the courage, to post it ‘online’. I feel excited about the prospect of extending my experimentations out into (and around) the public eye. To really test and hone my lightworker personae, my liminality, my non-clinging ego. Maybe these words will follow. My little secret world of art-making, writing and now singing is about to be exposed to the winds of the anonymous, fear-driven world of trolls and critics, and I walk boldly into this pool of sharks to see how protected my limbs really are.

So maybe I am peppering this relatively normal act with drama and exaggerated sensationalism, but for me, it is a big deal. I recall when I began feeling icky at being seen on social media, and the criticisms by others. I questioned why should I be seen at all, why not blend in and say nothing, for it was super comfy, easy and conflict-free. Plus, it was all ego right? Everyone who put out anything online was just needing to fill their empty void inside, to get the love they felt they never got as children from the likes and comments of total strangers. Validation. Recognition. Love?

It was easy, then, to go offline, to unplug myself from the ick and learn how to see myself. I have come a long way, a fucking long way, and now I feel a lingering longing to share with others. Not to grab from others, steal love, demand praise, but to share. It feels different somehow, a call to support and share the things that helped me break out of my cycles of perpetual drama, loneliness, depression, fear and despair.

However. This week I have come to realise that there aren’t too many ways I can do this right now. My body has moments of unwellness, which seem somewhat predictably cyclical, and yet each time I feel shocked and surprised. It doesn’t fit in with my reality, even now, two years after this all started. Day 12 of my cycle is when it usually hits, with aching lower back and hip joints, tricky digestion and mild nausea. Fatigue off and on, and inflamed tummy are pretty usual. Anyway, the point is, that I am finding it a challenge with this flare up to commit to anything regular, like being of support to a client, or holding a workshop etc. As it can happen that my body can flare up like this at any point. So little snippets and spontaneous outbursts of support are what I have to give currently.

I guess that is a belief that is also holding me back from stepping out. I haven’t yet accepted this unwellness, as it hasn’t got a name. It disappears so quickly, and I’ve not yet managed to truly capture how incapacitating it is, as I surrender to it rather than look to record it, then move on in relief once my mobility returns. If I had a name for my unwellness, I could tell others to prepare for it when taking on commitments, rather than using it as an excuse when it comes up when I unconsciously don’t feel up to a task. I’m not even sure if this illness is my body’s way of responding to my ego’s fear of living a full life with all the pain, conflict and responsibility included in it. I want this to change, but do I really? I want to face my fears, but I really don’t. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m internally conflicted.

Enough already, you’re going around in circles.

Having a body is hard. Having a mind is impossibly hard. All I can do is embrace this present moment for whatever it brings, regardless of what my mind is craving or pushing away. There are so many lessons I am learning through being unwell, and I hold the belief that once the lessons have been learnt, the wellness will return.

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