Lyrical Lingu: The Caliginous Night

The following lines are not my own, however, I have pulled together song lyrics and have juxtaposed them into my own, free-flowing thought process … my own interpretative verse.  It is, in its entirety, lyrics borrowed from songs that have moved me deeply in relation to my own pain and internal struggles.  Maybe you, too, have had to deal with intense hurt or pain, either from your own poor choices or at another’s hand.   Maybe you, like me, have have had to find ways to overcome through exercise, self expression, music, books, your work — but before overcoming,  you have leaned into a sort-of comradery with others who have also carried such an intense burden — that whole, “misery loves company” thing.

This is my Lyrical Lingu … my language of lyrics that helps me understand that I am not alone.  That others feel or have felt the same intensity as I and have gone as far as to put their pain to music.  This is part of my “before overcoming” story, and it’s part of the artists’ stories as well.  Maybe it’s YOUR “before overcoming” story too.  It’s ok to express it.  It’s ok for the darkness to take hold for a little while … to feel the intensity down to your bones.  This entry sounds bleak, hopeless even,  HOWEVER — it’s only part of the story of ultimate redemption.  So, don’t sit in the dark for too long here, because the “GET BACK UP” story comes next.

The only words that are my own have been inserted within parenthesis […]. Artists and their songs are listed at the end.  To all my fitness class participants – “You’re welcome”!  These are the songs that drove ME and therefore drove you!

 Lyrical Lingu Part I

The Caliginous Night

All my life, been running from a pain in me.  A feeling I don’t understand is holding me down.   I can’t seem to tame my mind.  Slings and arrows are killing me inside.  Clipped wings … [I’m] a broken thing.    I’ve traded love for indifference and it suits me just fine … every sound … monotone.  Every color … monochrome. I’ve become so numb.  Apathy grows quietly where rapture use to fly.   I’m rusted and weathered.  I’m tied up, twisted, barely breathing, buried in the dark. [My] darkest moments…keep [me] in the dark where all of the ghouls come out to play.  I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed.   [I] look[ed] for heaven once … but found the devil in me, and it’s hard to dance with the devil on your back!  [Mine is] just another soul for sale, covered with skin … it peels but it just won’t heal.

It’s always raining in my head.  I run and run as the rains come.  Run away, run away like a prodigal, [playing] hide and seek.  I am nothing more than a little [girl] inside [who] cries out for redemption yet I always try to hide.   When the night falls, you wonder if you shouldn’t find some place to run and hide … escape the pain.  But hiding is such a lonely thing to do.  [I] cry without weeping, talk without speaking, scream without raising [my] voice under a black belly of cloud in the rain.  I’ve got something to say, you know, but nothing comes.  Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul.  Sometimes I hear my voice [but] it’s been silent all these years.  Do you think there’s a heaven where the screams have gone?  Running through hell.  Heaven can wait.  Years go by and will I choke on my tears till finally there’s nothing left?  Years go by and will I still be waiting for somebody else to understand?  What’s the use so [I] start retreating.  I tear my heart open just to feel [then] I sew myself shut.  Life [begins] to fade into the black.  I [can] hardly feel me anymore.    Can hold my breath only for a little while until reality starts sinking in.  Lost under the surface.  Caught in the undertow.  I’m drowning in the pain, breaking down again. I want to swim away but don’t know how.  Sometimes it feels like I’m falling in the ocean.  Let the waves knock and take me down.  Let the rain of what I feel right now come down.  Let the rain come down. Not knowing how to think, I scream aloud … begin to sink.

When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away.  Sudden rain, coming down.  It all comes back to me … waking up, falling down.  Is there anybody out there?  I’m waiting in the dark.  Isn’t anyone trying to find me?  There’s nothing but the rain.  No footsteps on the ground.  Maybe friends will stand around and watch [me] crumble as [I’m]  falling to the ground.  I’ve been looking for a lifeline for what seems like a lifetime.  Can you help me?  I walk a lonely road … the only one that I have ever known.  Long road to ruin and my shadow’s the only one who walks beside me.  I’m bent.  I’m falling apart, barely breathing with a broken heart that’s still beating.  Sometimes I wish someone would find me.  Wake me up inside.  Call my name and save me from the dark.  Bid my blood to run … Tear down the walls that I’ve built around myself.  Save me from the nothing I’ve become.  Is there anybody out there?  I cried out with no reply.  If I fall along the way, [will anyone] pick me up and dust me off?  In a world so cold it’s hard to keep the faith.  It’s a damn, cold night trying to figure out this life.   Sometimes you feel like you live too long …. the days drip slowly on the page.  Nothing’s going right and everything’s a mess. I left myself behind somewhere along the way hoping to come back around to find myself some day.   I waited for you, today.  But you didn’t show. I’m searching for a face.  Is there anyone here I know?  [Ahhhh perhaps] … my shadow’s the only one that walks beside me.  [I] bleed myself out and no one cares.  Now again I’ve found myself so far down away from the sun that shines into the darkest place.  Seems I found the road to nowhere and I’m trying to escape.  Can anyone see me down here?   For now I’ll walk the night alone like a [girl] against the world.

I’m unashamed.  I’m gonna show my scar. It’s just the power of a breaking heart.  How good am I hiding it?  I won’t explain or say I’m sorry.  I do not have to justify the way I live my life. Remember what abuse did. Somewhere there’s a stolen halo.  There’s a scream we all try to hide. Someone ran away with innocence.  A memory [I] can’t get out of [my] head.  Can the child within my heart rise above?  I remember all of the things I thought I wanted to be.  So desperate to find my way out of my world and finally breathe.  I’m not afraid of anything.  I just need to know that I can breathe.  But I’m only a crack in this castle of glass.  Hardly anything there for you to see.  [Yet] somehow I’m still here to explain that the darkest hour never comes in the night [and that]  this quick sand’s got no sense of humor.  I wrote the book on pain so [I’ll]change the rhyme and forget the reason and give a cheer for all the broken … walking with the wounded. Because it’s who we are. 

 

Linkin Park:  Castle of Glass

James Morrison:  “I Won’t Let You Go”

Coldplay:  “Fix You”

Big and Rich:  “Holy Water”

Adele:  “Remedy”

Avril Lavigne:  “I’m With You” “How Does it Feel”

Blue October:  “Light You UP”, “Into the Ocean”, “Fear”, “The Worry List”

Lifehouse:  “Take Me Away”, “Broken”

Barlow Girl:  “Never Alone”

Papa Roach:  “Lifeline”, “Scars”

Creed:  “Higher”, “Weathered”, “One Last Breath”,

Candlebox: “Far Behind”

Default: “It Only Hurts” “Count on Me”

Evanescence:  “Bring Me To Life”

Foo Fighters:  “Long Road to Ruin”, “Come Alive”

Linkin Park: “Numb”, “Bleed it Out”

Green Day: “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

Jimmy Buffet:  “Pacing the Cage”

Matchbox 20: “Bent”

Eminem: “Beautiful Pain”, “Monster”

My Chemical Romance: “Welcome to the Black Parade”

Stain’d:  “Lost along the Way”, “Epiphany”

Scott Stapp: “Let Me Go”, “Broken”, “Justify”

3 Door Down:  “Let Me Be Myself”, “Away from the Sun”

U2:  “Running to Stand Still”

Tori Amos: “Silent All These Years”

Third Eye Blind:  “Wounded”

Third Day:  “When the Rain Comes”

Survivor: “Man Against the World”

Imogen Heap: “Hide and Seek”

Florence and the Machine: “Shake It Out”

One Republic: “Prodigal”

Sister Hazel: “Life Got In The Way”

Sia:  “Bird Set Free”

Stevie Nicks: “Landslide”

Switchfoot: “The Shadow Proves the Sunshine”

Bully on your Back

Sssshhhh!  Listen …. Do you hear that?  Sounds like jeering.  Where is it coming from?  Sure feels up close and personal, but you look right, then left – just in case.

There it is again.  Sneering this time – laughing that “AT YOU” kind of laugh meant to make you feel small and powerless – inconsequential.  You feel a heavy weight dragging you to the ground and in a split second before buckling under the pressure you look over your shoulder.  You see it — “him”, “her” — perched on your back with a reflection that mirrors your own face and carries your own namesake — your nemesis who whispers in your ear day in and day out.  Your own personal bully has wrapped arms around you and rides shotgun through your day to day.

We’ll call this bully, “Big B” but inserting our own names also suffices.

Big B didn’t rise to authority in our lives without our permission.  See, there’s the rub.  Somewhere along the line we invited Big B to hop on, piggy back, and we agreed to carry Big B with us.  At first it seemed like no big deal.  Just a little extra weight.  And Big B knew better than to speak up too loudly, too soon.  Just a little whisper of self-deprecation here.  A teeny, tiny, treacherous tirade there.  Just enough to ruffle our feathers a bit but not force us to drop that unwanted weight off our backs.  Big B knows exactly how to slowly condition us to the inner bullying until we convince ourselves there’s truth in the whispers.

Along the path, as we become accustomed to the added weight on our backs, Big B decides to kick it up a notch.  Time for more ammunition — Finger Pointing, Word Darts, Accusatory Arrows, the “Should Have”, “Could Have” Rocks, the Derogatory Name Calling — all get picked up and thrown into Big B’s pack.  And we find ourselves struggling intensely under the burden of it all.

Big B’s voice gets louder: 

“Haha, look at you!  Don’t you know you’ll fail?”

“You could’ve done ________________ but you dropped the ball.  How pathetic are you?”

“You are a wanna be and everyone knows it, except you.”

“LOSER!  Quitter!  Play small because you could never make it in the big leagues.”

“Try all you want but in the end you know it won’t work.  It never does.  And you are to blame.”

Points a finger in your face and pulls out the fiery darts…

“You are ugly.  You aren’t good enough.  You’re unloveable.  You are too much to handle.  You can’t do anything right.  You will never change.  You are stuck.  You are hopeless.  You CAN’T.  You WON’T.  You are pathetic.  You are too emotional.  You aren’t emotional enough.  You aren’t likable.  You are too headstrong for your own good.  You push people away.  You are not pretty enough, thin enough, athletic enough.  You ___________________fill in the blank______________________”

There’s a lyric I absolutely love from a song by Florence & the Machine called “Shake it Out”

“It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back so SHAKE HIM OFF!”

When did we allow the voice in our head to become the Big B on our backs?  More importantly, when did our own voice begin to sabotage us, to cut us off at the pass, to become the enemy at the gates, to drive us down into the dirt and keep us there?  Our OWN VOICE?

There are enough naysayers, haters and outright bullies out there as it is.  How dare we give credence to the BIG B that crops up in our own heads?  It certainly is enough of a battle dealing with the negativity of others, the jealous pettiness they throw our way in the form of slings and arrows meant to take us down, put us in our place.  The comparisons,  the jockeying for position, the keeping up with the Jones’s (again I ask, who are the Jones’s anyway?) and the general dog eat dog world out there are already more weight than we can bear.  But that internal voice in our own heads is what is gonna do us in, and for good, if we don’t shake that Big B devil off our backs.

But how?  Easier said than done – especially when Big B has laced fingers with ours and has wrapped arms and legs around us for what seems like the long haul.  Big B’s voice, though unkind, has become a sort of melodic rhythm in our ears and we find ourselves walking this life to it’s beat.

But Remember … Big B has camped on our back because of our permission.  So, I believe the one and only step we need to take is to mandate Big B’s departure.  Shake it out.  At first, this will require a DAILY, dare I say MOMENT BY MOMENT decree from within us.  Big B will continue to throw darts and arrows, hurl rocks, detonate soul crushing bombs and even resort to nasty little whispers in our ears.  We must HOLD FAST at every turn, each moment.  When we feel our knees buckling under the pressure to believe anything Bib B has to say, we must STAND FIRM, an unmovable defense against that domestic enemy.

We shake, we shake, we shake some more until that Bully on our Backs falls off, we hear the beautiful sound of silence and we start to dance!

“Shake It Out”

Florence + the Machine

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues strong
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I’m always dragging that horse around

Our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues strong
But it’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

‘Cause I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart
‘Cause I like to keep my issues strong
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

I tried to dance with the devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It’s a final mess but it’s left me so empty
It’s always darkest before the dawn
(Oh whoa, oh whoa)

And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope
It’s a shot in the dark and right at my throat
‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven, for the devil in me
Well what the hell I’m gonna let it happen to me

Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out,
Shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

 

 

Perspectiva Inversa

You are worth

Nothing.  There is so much

Wasted.   You ruin

Everything good … Nothing about you is

Beautiful.   You are the embodiment of

Mistakes   Your Mental, emotional, physical characteristics –

Have no lasting impact.   Each day  you should disregard your

Value.   Shame and regret 

Overwhelming you … Embrace the

Hopelessness, doubts, fears from

Every moment   Prevent

Courage – Rise up and then

Dim your

Light from the inside out.  Never

Enough value, beauty, worth, passion, goodness, discipline,

You have

Now read from the bottom line up (left to right) from the last line to the first.

Perspectiva Inversa

We are what we think.  The negativity that swirls in our minds concerning ourselves is devastating.  It predicts our every movement through life, our reactions to others, our assumed position in this World.  Oh the fiery darts we throw at our own hearts.  The World is full of naysayers and haters, yet we are our worst enemy most days.  From the moment our feet hit the floor in the morning to pillowing our heads at night, the running dialogue of self doubt, self hatred, self sabotage creates a slow and painful death to our spirits.

It takes courage to stand up for ourselves amidst the doubts and fears, the insecurities, the mistakes, the wounds, the regrets.  That battalion of warriors inside our heads is fierce, unrelenting, harsh and cruel and is willing at any moment to take us down, and HARD.  It uses every single weapon in our wheelhouse to weaken us until we fall.  The enemy at the gates is sly and uses seemingly innocuous means to keep us from standing tall and living in victory.

Comparing ourselves to others.  Oh, that’s a sticky one.  We become entrapped in the “less than” pit.  The waters are muddy and our feet slip on the slimy undersurface of “looking less”, “having less”, “being less”.  There is no standing on such a surface.

Returning to Regrets.  Like a dog returns to its own vomit.  Melodramatic you say?  Ahhh, but we do this ALL THE TIME.  There’s no standing in victory while hunched over, feasting on the rancid remnants of regrets.

Carrying the bag of Shame.  This is a doozie and is a sure way of crippling anyone under its weight.  The thing is, we aren’t meant to carry that pack on our backs.  Shame is an uninvited traveler, perched on our shoulders, free-loading from us along the journey.  It takes our pride, our dignity, our fortitude and eventually our ability to take another step toward victory.  For as long as we are allow ourselves to be heavy laden, the cost to Shame is nothing.  The cost to us is great.

Validating Devaluation.  We are the only ones who can allow ourselves to feel devalued.  Sure, others can attempt to make us feel worthless by the words they say or the way they treat us, but it’s only in our own agreement with them that we become flanked on all sides by the value stealers.  Our worth was decided from the very beginning.  “You are beautifully and wonderfully made.”  No other person, circumstance, group of people, authority figures, mistakes in life can change the fact that from the beginning of time our value was already established.  Validating devaluation of ourselves hangs our heads so low that we can no longer see the path ahead, fight the battles or even come close to living in victory.

Playing Hangman with Hopelessness.   Whenever we play against the house, the house usually wins.  It is risky behavior to play games with Hopelessness.  Much like Russian Roulette, the odds of coming out alive are slim.  The noose of Hopelessness is tied and ready to choke us out.  Hopelessness and all the various emotions it brings to the playing table is a crooked dealer wanting us to believe, in the depths of our souls, that there’s just no use in trying.  There’s no hope for 2nd chances, for change, for any good thing — and certainly no hope for winning battles, much less the war.  Not too far into the game we find ourselves hung up, barely breathing.

Moving in with FEAR.  When we decide to live our lives side by side with FEAR, we get into bed with a LIAR.  Watch your back.  Keep one eye open because FEAR could snuff you out in your sleep.  FEAR cripples.  FEAR steals joy, happiness.  FEAR puts up road blocks, stop signs, no entry placards.  FEAR keeps our strength at bay.  FEAR asphyxiates us and robs us of our forward drive on this battleground of life.

We need PERSPECTIVA INVERSA.  We need a change of thought … a reversal … a flip side … a completely upside down re-write of the programmed thought process in our heads.  We’ve got dragons and demons to slay.  There’s a battle ground in our minds and hearts with enough enemies from within and from without that are vying for victory.  The enemies plot daily to steal, kill and destroy from any and every angle possible.  We have work to do beginning with our own internal dialogue.  Let’s gather our troops to the frontline.  It’s time for battle.

Perspectiva Inversa, my comrades.  Onward and Upward!

 

Why I JUMPED …

It all began as I was sitting on that Spin bike … this time a participant instead of the instructor … I carry that proverbial weight on my shoulders and realize that my tank of inner angst has reached full capacity.  Dark goes the room.  Pitch black to match the pitch of blackness I am positive is oozing from my pores.  Perfect.  No one can see me which means I can be invisible.  I am surrounded by only a handful of people I recognize.  So many that I once knew have moved on, whether to another gym, another state or another set of circumstances.  They are not unlike me … I’ve moved on too.  Another gym in another state under a whole different set of circumstances.  Hence the angst.  It feels good to be sitting here, in the dark, connected yet equally invisible to these people and this place. 

The black lights come on and like a psychedelic dance floor all the white garments in the room begin to reflect off each other, swirling with energy.  The instructor is a former student of mine and I’m proud to see her taking charge.  I know for certain that our taste in music is the same … the hardcore, drive-out-the-demons-in-your-head kind of rhythm, beat and lyrics that bring out the best of me when I exercise.  It’s go time.  I crank up the gear, feeling my quads, hams and glutes engage as I reach into the toxic places in my heart, being ready to leave those toxins in a puddle on the floor around my bike.  The Lake of Michele is what I use to call it.

And then she does it.  She drops a sentence that exits her mouth, flies across the room, dodging the swirling energy of the white reflections, and lands full of fury in my brain and heart.

“I’m jumping out of an airplane tomorrow”, she says almost matter-of-factly.

And then she continues to speak about it, but this is what I hear:

“I’m part of a blah blah blah out in Zephyrhills at Sky Dive City where we blah blah blah and jump, working on my blah blah free fall blah blah blah exhilarating, blah, blah, scary but fun.  Anyone can blah blah blah join me.”

Oh no you don’t.  My somewhat logical brain is talking to my very much illogical heart.  Absolutely not.  You are deathly afraid of heights, for one.  You could die, for two.  You’ve adamantly refused any such notion in the past, for three.  There are many other ways to “feel alive”, for four.  And there’s sundry scenarios that can assist you in getting past your current difficulties …  jumping out of a perfectly safe airplane does not need to be one of them!

However, there and then, while pedaling myself to nowhere in particular, my heart won.   “Join me” — I kept hearing those two little words.  “Join me“.  Not a question but an imperative statement.  YOU, (Michele) MUST JOIN ME.  My heart did a victory dance in front of my brain who was sitting in the corner sulking in defeat.

I show up the next day completely in disbelief at what I am about to do.  I had recruited one other person.  Not sure why.  Maybe I considered the fact that if death did, in fact, occur there would be people who witnessed it and could live to tell.  Possibly I wouldn’t die alone … we’d all die together.  Perhaps it was the competitor in me who said, “If she can do this, certainly you can do this.”  And so there we were.  Arriving 3 deep … the spin instructor, me and my friend … we sign our lives away on a stack of forms, were assigned our tandem instructors, suit up, practice our sky diving arches and wait with sweaty palms and racing hearts as the plane arrives.

Scared is too light a word to describe my walk to the plane.  Although I do not know what a walk of death really feels like, the current of fear mixed with adrenaline along with my elevated heart rate allow me to have a vivid sense of what a walk of death could feel like.   Nothing about this venture puts me at ease.  There are plenty reasons why I shouldn’t jump. It was on a whim that I made the decision, without so much as a lick of research so as not to destroy the little ounce of courage I had inside.  Whim decisions rarely put anyone at ease.  Jumping at 13, 500 feet (let’s be honest, jumping from 20 feet would’ve been enough) exceeds any standard I have in relation to one of my biggest fears in life, the fear of heights.  Acrophobia, for the word nerds out there, like me.  I value the people who had accompanied me, so why would I want to be falling from the sky with them at a terminal velocity that could create quite a “splat factor” if anything goes awry?  Somehow I walk, of my own free will, to the plane despite the gut-check panic and sheer terror I feel.   The plane itself is reason enough to run away and forget this craziness … it creaks and groans, rattles and shakes as it carries a sardined group of about 20 people to their jumping point in the sky.  Everything in me screams with profound panic at what I am about to do.

The 3 of us, basically sitting in the laps of our tandem instructors, try to make small talk while the plane climbs like a bird with a broken wing to 13, 500 ft above the soft, safe, grassy turf of Earth.  Looking out the window, I could see the curve of the earth.  Holy crap!  I feel like I am close to outer space.  I mean, seriously, the EARTH’S CURVE is staring at me, eye to eye.  We still have time to decline, back out, quit, call it a good enough day without ever leaving the airplane.

The solo flyers jump first … full of maddening excitement and without any evidence of fear.  They do somersaults at the open door, shrieking with utter joy as they plummet to the earth.  And then come the tandems … crab crawling towards the door one after the other.  We were the first on the plane, the last to jump.  I’m not sure if being last and watching everyone else empty the plane before me is a good or a bad thing in reference to my pounding heart and my sudden inability to breathe.  I watch my friend shuffle with her tandem partner to the door.  She looks horrified.  And suddenly she’s gone.  Poof!  She disappears over the edge of the open doorway into the vast blue sky, falling, falling, falling.  What have we done??

And before I know it, Bill, my tandem instructor, is yelling in my ear (over the thunderous roar of the airplane’s propeller) that we are next.  Crawling and shuffling, awkwardly we make it to the gaping mouth of the plane.  Oh no.  No, No, No.  My eyes are wide.  I can’t breathe.  We are wayyyy too far off the ground.  No, No, No.  I’m hanging onto the bar above my head, white knuckling it, I’m sure. 

“Let go”, he says.  Let go.  Let go.  Let go.  There’s something that rings very true inside my spirit when he says those words.  And I know for certain that those 2 words will mean more to me on a metaphoric level later than they do on an actual physical level right this very moment.  And so I do.  In trust, yet still racked with horror …

I.   Let.   Go.

3 …. 2 …. 1 ….

The plane is suddenly above me as we flip upside down.  Bill intended for me to see that perfectly safe airplane clearly and wave goodbye to it, wave goodbye to my sense of reason, wave goodbye to the face of fear.  I am surprised to see it getting smaller as we flip a couple times before the true free fall begins.  We are belly down now, the curve of the earth beautifully visible straight ahead and the rush of air in my face.  It is silent except for the air.

I am reminded of a quote by Rumi,

 “This silence.  This moment, EVERY moment, if it’s genuinely inside you, brings what you need.  Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.”

I’m not falling at all, am I?  It doesn’t feel like I am.  Oh the exhilaration!  It’s beautiful up here!  And wait … I’m not afraid anymore.  I’m ecstatic.  I actually let go.  I jumped.  I did it!  I did it for me.  I wasn’t coerced or convinced.  I CHOSE to jump and never in a million years would I have thought this was something I’d choose, in my right mind or in my not-so-right mind. 

I can’t get enough of what I am seeing and feeling.  I am FREE.  There are no inhibitions in this moment of free fall.  And what a grouping of words to describe what is happening:  FREE FALL.  Free from fear.  Free from confinement.  Free from sadness.  Free from the half-life I am living.  Falling away from security and what I believe to be safety.  Falling upside down, tossed about and doing so of my own volition.  Falling dangerously but without a care in the world.  Falling alongside only a few in life who were willing to take the plunge as well. Falling with the biggest smile on my face!  FREE.  FALL.

There’s a saying, “Do something every day that scares you!”  Why?  What is the purpose of such an action?  I believe when you live in fear (fear of change, fear of being lonely, fear of vulnerability with others, fear of tangible things and intangible things), you create a cage around your heart.  Life begins to get smaller and smaller as you back yourself into your corner of apparent safety.  For me, fears in life made their impression on me at a very young age.  Most of those fears are intangible, emotional kinds of fears.  Some, like acrophobia, are more tangible.  I realize I have lived to date under my own allegiance to fear, thereby enabling it to grow more and more powerful.  Fear’s growth created the inner angst that I began to carry on my back, everywhere I went, until I found myself immobilized.

“Run from what’s comfortable.  Forget safety.  Live where you fear to live.  Don’t worry that your life is turning upside down.  How do you know that the side you are used to is better than the one to come?”   ~Rumi

Why did I jump from a perfectly safe airplane?  Because my life depended on it.

I needed to stand up tall, put on my big girl panties and face myself.  Jumping became the impetus for change.  It was the turning point that planted the seeds of new-found courage that prompted me to reach inside of myself, wrestle down the woman of fear and sadness who had kept me in a cage all these years, tear open up my heart and mind and freely fall into the twists and turns of life, despite the occasional thumping of my heartbeat and the inability to breathe.  I needed to discontinue holding onto comfort, looking over my shoulder at the past where I thought I was comfortable and safe.  I needed the wind to blow in my life.  Blow NEW life into my lungs, new courage to face change or loss or sadness or heartbreak without crumbling into a heap of fear on the floor.  I needed to jump from great heights in order to gain a new perspective.  I needed to jump so that I could see the beautiful curves of this life and allow them to look at me eye to eye.  Letting go, jumping, flipping over, watching my safety net get smaller and smaller prepared me to face other obstacles in life where I’d have to make a choice to do something that scares me to my core.

I needed to jump from a perfectly safe airplane.  My life, my heart, my soul depended on it, and if given the chance, I’d jump again!

 

 

 

Bird Set FREE

We all have a story to tell. There’s hurt and pain in all our camps and somewhere along the line that pile of ash in our hearts can make or break us.

My story probably isn’t much different than yours. Perhaps the actual events are different, but that pile of ash is still swept up in a corner of my past, much like yours. The difference comes in how we each deal with the pile.

For years I continued to work my proverbial broom—sweeping, sweeping and sweeping under rugs, into dark corners and behind closed doors with hopes that if I couldn’t see the ash piles, I could ignore their existence and move forward in life (albeit with my head in the sand) without acknowledging the effects of those little piles of pain. Has this method worked? Not at all. And I have begun to suspect that this method works for no one.

So I tried other methods.

Maybe you will recognize some of these:

• Over-exercising
• Reading self-help books, yet never implementing any of their plans of action,
• Minimizing the hurt to make it feel less hurtful
• Overeating
• Under-eating
• Keeping busy so as not to have time to think.
• Self Sabotage
• Using the pain as a crutch or excuse for poor interpersonal behavior
• Pointing fingers / Blame Game
• Substance Abuse
• Hermit-ing
• Oh, the list could go on. I’m quite positive our lists are similar.

I, for one, still suffered, continued to be plagued by the piles and found myself creating more self-destructive ways of dealing with the pain rather than finding any relief.

Until one day …

I stumbled across the Legend of the Phoenix. Its relevance to my own heart’s hurt caused such a stirring within me that I knew with certainty that there are amazing lessons to be learned from this age-old legend.

Across many cultures and religions lay an ancient story of a magnificent creature, a bird of beauty with a song of equal beauty that comes from within … inside the deep places of its very spirit. The Phoenix finds its place in the pages of Greek mythology, Egyptian folklore, Chinese and Arabian stories along with Native American pantheistic legends, and despite the unknown source to its true origin, each legend bears the same truths.

The Phoenix, a powerful bird of beauty and grace, envied by other creatures and whose magnificent feathers are coveted by mankind, is a symbol of immortality, resurrection, rebirth, strength, power, light, energy, passion.

The story goes as such:

There lived a large, beautiful bird with glistening feathers of red and gold which caught the attention of the Sun. The Sun was so mesmerized by the bird’s beauty, and the reflection of its own light in the bird’s feathers, that the Sun laid claim on the bird and promised that the Phoenix would live forever and would belong to the Sun, him
self. The Phoenix was overjoyed to belong to the Sun and reserved the most glorious of songs to sing to the Sun each day. However, the overwhelming beauty displayed in each of the Phoenix’s feathers and the syrupy song of the Phoenix’s voice was noticed and coveted by others, causing the Phoenix much distress.

One day the bird flew away to a faraway place in the East to live a life of solitude and to continue to sing songs to the Sun, who rose to greet the East every morning. Five hundred years passed. Flying freely and with a melodious song on its breath, the Phoenix began to tire. The beloved Phoenix, in a moment of despair, sang a different song to the Sun … a song that pleaded for youth and strength. Silence. Day after day the beautiful bird sang the song, beckoning an answer from the Sun. Silence. The Phoenix considered the possibility that the Sun had not actually moved from its original spot in the sky … where the original promise of immortality was given. Perhaps if the Phoenix flew back to its home, the Sun would be there waiting to hear the new song.

The journey was rigorous, as the Phoenix was weak and aged. During its many periods of rest, the bird collected spices and fragrant leaves to build a new home upon reaching its destination. Once home again, the Phoenix collected myrrh (a salve for wounds, abrasions and inflamed sores), formed an egg and placed the egg in a new nest made from the leaves and spices collected. The nest was located atop a lone tree that stood on the summit of a glorious mountain. From this nest the bird sang its song to the Sun, asking once again for youth and strength. The Sun heard this new song and replied by calming the winds and chasing away the clouds and shining its intense light upon the Phoenix. All other creatures hid from the Sun’s strong, luminous rays, but the Phoenix remained in its nest high on the mountain top, secluded and “safe”. The Sun’s beam was so intense and hot, like a laser, that it consumed the Phoenix, swallowing whole the bird, its beauty and its song, yet leaving the tree and the nest intact. The bird became a heap of ash in the middle of the nest and faced its own mortality and wondered how the Sun could be so cruel.  Death came to the Phoenix’s gilded feathers and its sweet melody ceased.  All was dark and gray.

After the mound of smoldering ash had settled, there came a stirring within them. Moment by moment the ashes began to rise up out of the nest forming the shape of a bird … the Phoenix itself was reborn from its own death and completely ruined state. It rose up young and strong, brilliant and beautiful again, just as it had requested in its song to the Sun. Once again the Phoenix sang its praises to the Sun before flying off to a land far away to reside alone with the Sun. Every 500 years when the Phoenix began losing strength and youth, it would fly back to its nest where death to self, resurrection and renewal would occur once again.

PERHAPS A GRANDER MEANING?
To describe the secrets of my childhood as a tragedy is fitting.  “Something wicked this way comes”. The unfortunate events that plagued me as a child also haunt me as an adult. However, only as an adult am I able to see through the fog of some of it and follow the pattern of growth within my spirit over the years of maturity. It is as an adult that I ponder the grander meaning of the Legend of the Phoenix. It is as an adult that I can see a rising from the ashes of my distress … a rejuvenation through fire that is carefully orchestrated and demonstrated in love towards me from the Light of the Universe.

A young, vibrant, full-of-life bird (child) who catches the favor, care and blessing of the One and Only Light…that same Light claims her as His own and promises her immortality, and she in turn sings a song of devotion. Light does not promise a life free from trouble, hurt, pain, weariness, loneliness, toil and youth.  The child in me is inappropriately sought after, coveted with sickening intentions and nearly destroyed by the hands of another. Her spirit is crushed and her desire for freedom from her chains burns deeply. She flies off to faraway lands, seeking her own peace, her own freedom from pain, her own answers…away from the Sun.

However, the Sun always rises in the East. The Sun is with her all along, even when her song and her pleas appear to go unanswered. Only when the Phoenix returns to her roots, crying out once again to the Light, does the Light answer. His answer feels severe…harsh…a burning, hot fire that brings what feels like an actual death of her inner self. And through the purifying heat of renewal can she rise up from the ashes of her childhood, her self-made attempts of moving beyond the tragedy and be reborn, redeemed, renewed, resurrected.

The Phoenix rises from the ashes of its own pain.  I rise.  The Phoenix stands up, a more beautiful being than before.  I stand and am made beautiful of heart and spirit.
The Phoenix spreads its wings.  I spread my wings.  The Phoenix flies again.  I fly for the very first time, with the beautiful songs of freedom on my lips.

What the Legend of the Phoenix taught me:

1. I, you, we are not alone!

Every demographic of people experiences hurt and pain. This legend spans the globe. All people relate. All live a life wanting to be cherished and loved, accepted and allowed to feel beautiful. All want to be acknowledged and will go to great lengths to devote themselves to the one who acknowledges them, believes in them, protects them and desires nothing but what is best for them.

Yet all experience hurt and pain (of many shapes and forms) throughout this lifetime. The moment we understand that we are all in this together, in spite of the various degrees of our experiences, we are taking the first step to not only self-awareness singularly, but self-awareness amidst the masses. No more should we feel we have to bear the weight of any burden alone. And since we are not alone, we can bring our self-awareness to the table of vulnerability and seek help through talking, writing, sharing our stories. Flight begins here!

2. Learning how to trust again.

The sun, light of the universe is constant. It is I who moved, ran, panicked. There is order among chaos. There is light as well as darkness. There is Yin and Yang. I am to trust the constant, even when all else around me seems dark, when I feel unheard, when my “flight or fight” mentality reverts to FLIGHT. vI must remember to trust in what is constant.

The sun rises in the East and sets in the West. Each day is new. Taking my head out of the sand and looking up is my second step toward spreading my wings, initiating a standing position and even considering taking on a new flight pattern in life—a new and improved way of dealing with hurt in order to love myself again. I must find the constants in life and begin to build my trust again, even when I’m afraid.

3. Return to the root of the hurt and face the pain head-on.

This is a difficult process and one that can only be done once the standing up position has been accomplished. Hurt and pain, self-inflicted or by others, holds a strong position in life. It can become this larger-than-life entity that is all consuming, all powerful and completely destructive. It is driven by fear which is also a larger-than-life entity that can be all-encompassing.

Going back to one’s roots takes courage and can truly only be accomplished from the standing up position of bravery, where we meet our pain eye to eye and disallow fear to crumble us. It’s a conscious decision to stand up like a wall and provide a fortress around your heart and meet your life-killing adversary head on!

How? Well, for me it helped to watch or listen to empowering, motivational videos to boost my confidence and give me a fist-first mentality. Download positive music rather than listening to the music that weakens the spirit. Simultaneously conquer a tangible goal to enable facing the inner demons that haunt. Do things that are scary to build up confidence and tear down fear.

4. Let the hurt die.

The only way to do this is to let it go. After facing it at its roots, standing up to it, one must allow a death of that part of self to occur.

The phoenix built a nest much like the piles of ash that I swept into the darkened corners of my heart. I, along with the phoenix, felt safe there because I had been the one to build a place for my hurt to live…thinking that I could control its dreadful spread into other parts of my life.  Just like the phoenix, I tried all kinds of salves to help heal my wound, decrease the painful fester, smooth over the abrasion.  I thought I should help the wound to heal.  However, I was wrong.  The wound needed to die completely and no salve or tincture or special potion I had in my bag of tricks was going to accomplish what I needed most.  I was attempting to heal my wound rather than heal myself.  I had it all wrong.

The hurt had to die in order to end its path of destruction. I had to die to that part of myself. I had to let it go. This is a process. It takes time, great strength and endurance. It is tiring and causes even more pain to rise to the surface. There are tears and anguish…a ripping away of self. It is scary moving out of the self-made coping mechanisms (a nest that does not actually work, ineffective coping mechanisms used as pain reducers) and allowing oneself to be consumed in the fire of truth, honesty, vulnerability. It feels like a burning flame that could destroy all of self. But once the scorching is complete and the hot-white flame of purification and purging has done its work—oh what a beautifully new creature that emerges.

5. GET BACK UP!

It’s that simple.  Just GET.  BACK.  UP.  Sing a new song of renewed innocence, brilliance and beauty that could never have occurred without the death of the old and the rebirth of the new. Understand that there may come new hurts and pain in life, for the universe doesn’t promise a life free from these.  Stand on a new mentality after learning that you CAN rise, you CAN soar.  Discard the “Why Me” mentality and embrace the “Try Me” mindset instead. Facing one hurt only brings confidence to be able to do the same again and again when necessary.

And then … SING!  Loudly.  Let your voice be heard.  You have a message that others need to hear.  Bear witness to the masses who also experience deeply woven hurts in life that there is HOPE, REDEMPTION, RENEWAL and RESURRECTION!  Sing your song unapologetically and with all the passion and depth of spirit you have within.  This is your new, “Unchained Melody” — your moment.  Sing … SING … and then SING some more!

Click the Link Below:

Bird Set Free by Sia

With Love,