Does it ever end?
God, I hope not!
I am living in a time of great transition, moving from the person who couldn’t be present in her own life and used others as a means to exit, to a person who so inhabits her own life that she is spending more and more time alone. Not in an effort to keep others out, but in an effort to really inhabit her own skin.
I have used so many thing to exit me. The list is endless. But now, here, in this moment, I am present in my life. Showing up for me, about me and to me. I have to be careful to walk the line between self care and selfishness. It is a slippery slope for me...
But I feel as though I am in a great sorting time, a time where I am turning over the heavy years of addictive patterns and conduct and looking at what is really underneath it all. A constant and pervasive fear that you might not think I am fabulous. What I have under earthed recently is a feeling of “I don’t care about being fabulous anymore” and it is being replaced with a feeling of inclusion, a feeling of loving without strings, for me, for you, for all. I have gotten out the backhoe and have created quite a mess. Moving dirt here and there and really only transferring the earth from one location to another. Always substituting whatever it was that I thought I wanted in place of that which arrived and clamored for my attention.
Today, I am giving the backhoe a rest. There is plenty of me strewn all about the yard to review and assess. But it is going to take some time, some internal time where I do not involve myself with all the usual things that I hide behind or within. I am going to have to stand here, in my messy yard of me and just take in all that I can see from the excavation. Spend some time, just looking at all I have uncovered. Turns out, there is a lot of stuff that I kept buried still. But now, the soil turned upwards toward the sun, bared to the elements of life. I feel protective of the virgin earth of my soul, afraid to invite others in to trample the fertile soil.
I wonder if it will always be like this, will a backhoe always be needed, what about that tiny garden shovel over there? Could the work I need to do ever be done with that? The backhoe so dramatic and drastic. And a tiny voice within me, says, “it matters not the tool used, it matters only that you keep digging...”
So, I shall continue to excavate the me I find littered everywhere, and gather her up into a more loving embrace. I shall hold her as the remnants of the past conjure images she would rather forget. I will be still and allow whatever feelings come, to just flow in and out like the wind on a breezy day. And I will know that this soul excavation clears away the debris that stands between me and you and life and death. I come to know me better so that I can know you better. To move the stuff out of the way that exists between us that disconnects us. I excavate the soul to make room for new connections and reconnections for those whom I didn’t tend to carefully enough in the past, which would include my relationship with myself.
Soul excavation is arduous work but the view from where stand amazing. Standing in the soil of my soul, gazing about at all I have survived, lived, loved and grown through. I can be amazed that this life is one that has been dirty, and soiled and fouled, but it is also one that has many bright spots and buried treasure and loves lost and found. Soul excavation is, as it turns out, worth all the effort. It is blessed work upon sacred ground.