This morning, I am confused. That means I am both hesitant and indecisive. Slow to move on anything, no matter how small or inconsequential. Feeling fogged in and hoping for some clearing soon. Don’t like the feeling. Much prefer to know exactly where I am going and what it is that I need to do.
For the first time in years, I have been plagued by feelings from the past and those are interfering with the present moment. They are strong and drag me back to a place I have not been in for decades. They also have a tendency to color everything that is happening now.
I have been exploring some of that in my journal, not even realizing that was what was happening, just writing down feelings and random thoughts, amazed at the strength of these old forgotten hurts and wounds. Why that should surprise me, I’m not sure. Perhaps because I have been doing the journal writing for so long that I somehow think all of the past should be covered, resolved, and taken care of by now. Obviously it hasn’t been.
If I’m honest, there is even a bit of resentment that I should have to deal with any of it at all. Now, that really makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s there and needs to be dealt with, doesn’t matter if it is now or three years from now. It still remains to be cleared away and resolved. And, of course, the only one who can do that is me.
But, I am really busy at the moment. Need all my faculties to deal with what is happening in this moment. Ahh, the whisper of self-pity has raised her whining little voice and made herself known. I am feeling put upon, and again, “Why me? Why now?” The answer, of course, is “Why not? And just when would be more convenient for her highness?”
Reality is, I have never wanted to deal with these particular feelings, and have somehow avoided doing so for most of my life. They are incredibly messy and just so confusing. Now we are back at square one. They are confusing because they don’t line up with the way I think my life should unfold and move and be. I very much still want that happy ending, the magic of happily ever after. That ever after that means that nothing too bad is going to happen so I can just relax and enjoy the ride into that glowing gorgeous sunset.
Reality is, the sunset is skewed, covered over by clouds and dense fog, I am not happy in this moment, and ever after is a joke of cosmic proportions. And I want to lay down on the floor and throw a Queen-sized tantrum, kicking and screaming til I’m blue in the face. Not that that will do anyone, especially me, any bit of good.
With my stiff and sore joints, if I got down on the floor, I might never be able to get back up again. And although blue is my favorite, it isn’t good at all as a skin-color. Besides, everyone, including me, would define such actions as Drama Queen Supreme and I still couldn’t get up from the floor without assistance, and everyone would simply disappear at the first burst of wailing.
But, it was certainly fun to think about that image. Maybe that’s exactly what I needed: a bit of humor to clear away some of the fog. These feelings are mine, they don’t belong to anyone else. Avoiding them has only forced them back into this moment, and needing to be handled now. Ahh, another light bulb goes on. Perhaps I haven’t dealt with them before because I assumed they were someone else’s responsibility? And just who would that someone else be?
The person, or persons, who originally hurt me way back there in that dim past on the other side of the fog, of course. Okay, things are getting clearer. They are responsible for their actions back then, but not now. I have made the choice to avoid these messy confusing feelings. By doing so, I have made them and their attendant consequences my own in this present moment. Things are beginning to fall into place.
To avoid these things further, means I’ll just have to face off with them some time in the future. Which means that I have a task in front of me. It is one of sorting this from that, what is past from what is present. I was a child in the past. That means I didn’t have a clear or even whole picture of what was actually going on. Now, I am an adult with a much wider knowledge base.
And a long-standing journal habit. I can and will do my sorting, but I will do it privately and at my own rate of speed. I have actually been doing a bit of that already. Just didn’t see it clearly for what it was and where it was aimed at taking me. Consciously aware of that now, I can separate those feelings from the past, freeing myself for whatever needs to be done and accomplished in the present.
Had no idea what I was going to write about this morning. Now I have a full page and a much more seeable path on which to proceed. Writing is a wonderful tool for all the sorting we need to do at any period in our lives. Doing it only in our heads and not on paper, can easily be an act of avoidance, like the one I have just now discovered. Is that one of the reasons you don’t write on a regular basis?