How Really Feeling Can Really Feel

Release.

I hear the word and it sounds joyful. So good. Like a deep, deep stretch during yoga that leaves you blissed out and floating.

I didn’t know about uneasy release.  

Right now release is making me feel like a row of cheap glass Christmas ornaments strung too close together on a piece of wire and left out in a strong wind. They bounce unevenly and collide making an unpleasant racket. They should crack and break. They might.

My body still aches. I have been trained in the ways of self discovery so I try to listen to the aches, sense what they are telling me, but they move around. Those aches hold secrets, and they are tricksy and they won’t tell.

I am trying to let all the tensions drop out of my shoulders and out of my body. Be in my body. Not in my head. I wish it were as easy as a cheap summer dress dropping to the floor. But it’s more like wriggling out of a pair of too tight jeans. Wrestling with the button, peeling the legs and kicking them off ungracefully with one foot.

I am trying and trying and trying to remember to breathe, but every few minutes I find that I’m not so I start over. Again.

Breathe. Soften. Shrink. Tighten….

***

My stomach is all wrong. Unsettled. Not sick: just confused.

I have visions of roasted sweet potato and butternut squash. Hot and sweet, salty and tender with crispy corners.

But the unripe apples, orange colored crunch and sugar coated bars of oats in the work vending machine don’t meet my base criteria for food. So instead I drink warm peppermint tea, with it’s edge of sharpness to keep me honest.

I’m cold all the way inside. I feel silly and wrong and hopeful and stupid and fake and real and intensly unsettled.

And I drink glass after glass of water in the hopes that it will flush all of this through me soon

Comments

[Tammy]

That is so beautifully written!
Love every word and the emotions that are tied to each one