Dancing around the edges of the edges
I’ve not been here, this much is obvious. Yet I’v been showing up and doing the work daily. Where is this wondrous place you ask? It is, of course the Floating Playground, which is the best thing since, oh I don’t know, ever probably. I’ve unstuck more stuff there in the last five month than I have in 1,5 years of official therapy with a therapist. Well, I was always better at selfstudy in a supportive environment.
In combination with the work I’ve been doing for my yoga teacher training, a lot of things have started shifting. My perspective on the world is changing, sometimes in ways that are hard to accept for me. I’ve started saying words like chakra and energy out loud, and then apologizing profusely for not having other words to express the aspects of those concepts that fascinate me.
Old fears about being lonely and shunned surface when I think of talking about any of these shifts outside of teacher training and the Floop (the Floating Playgrounds nickname). Fears of not being able to talk, of not having words, of talking gibberish, of being misunderstood. Fears of alienating people I love and admire. Fears of a crumbling support network and with all those fears comes a direct line to existential angst.
And these fears, monster beliefs that my perspective is unworthy and I should just keep quiet, make me shut up and be quiet. And with it I lose my blogging voice. This blog is about forming myself-awareness-behaviour to instigate change in the world. It is essential that I write about my tools and have words to describe what I’m doing with them.
What I’ve learned is really powerful stuff, but the words are all wooy and yogay, because essentially our scientific description of this world is too narrow to encompass the powerful things that the mind and body can do in concert. And I really really want to talk to non-wooy and non-yogay people about this stuff. I’m sure I could pull out study after study of why this stuff works, but that’s not the point. The point is using this stuff to come unstuck and get on with your fucking life. If I’d had these tools about two or three years ago I would, today, be a bright young scientist, or science journalist rocking the world with her awesomeness, rather than a professionless bum sitting on her bed writing about how she’s too scared to talk about what she’s discovered.1
I can give myself permission to not write about this stuff, I can give myself permission to feel afraid, but what I really want is to just write this stuff already. So I’m dancing around the edges, around the edges of the edges, like healing that comes from the edges of the wound rather than plunging up through the middle.
Dance with me.
- Not that anything is wrong with being a professionless bum, or sitting on a bed. [↩]