underworld confession on saturday…

another night of crying.  woke up at five am crying too.  so much crying.  is this my third or second night of it?  don’t remember.  was talking to a friend last night about how i want to be wanted, not needed, in a relationship.  but i realize, that’s not entirely true.  the truth of that statement stems from self worth…how i spent my life attracting mates who needed me, because deep down, i didn’t feel good enough to be wanted.  i have done much self work around this, love myself pretty decently these days, and perhaps it is time to soften around this edge.  there is something about need that is valuable too…obviously not when it’s a deflection, but there is a genuine sense of needing somebody that is beautiful.  the need is not logical.  i don’t logically need a man by my side.  i can survive without a partner.  though last night, when i was crying, it felt i needed him.  him and only him.  not a man, not a lover, not even a boyfriend…but my beloved.  felt like i was crying out of starvation for nurturing last night.  it felt like my body wad crying out for entwinement with his body, to be held, to wake up beside him each morning in the most ordinary way, like two animals on earth mating for life…to look into his eyes and feel home, to make him coffee, do things for him, make his life easier, eat dinner together, make decisions as a couple, make travel plans, talk about our day, plan our future.  i am way past making somebody else my happiness source, glorifying partnership, putting men on pedestals, looking to be saved, and all that cloudy stuff covering the mirror of the heart.  this is not about that.  it’s about a genuine soul hunger stemming from a woman who has only spent two years of her life in partnership, and the rest of it alone, working on herself, healing, growing, transforming.  i’ve spent  a lot of time and energy observing my needs and desires, learning to find my anchor and a deeper sense of peace within, as i watch the desires and needs flare and subside.  that’s all fine and great, i am a yogini now.  it’s a very masculine method, solar, and i appreciate it.  but what about the lunar feminine?  what about receiving the gifts of this world that the soul hungers for?  this is what alex talked about in school, that cracked open my illusion, allowing me to validate what my soul hungers for, without trying to rationalize it away.  to have a pet is a soul hunger.  to walk outside and connect to earth, is a soul hunger.  why am i starving for so many years on end?  is this spiritual anorexia, living in a studio in the sky alone, with no animal, no partner, no land to connect with?  tears are emerging again, as i write this.  scary tears, because they feel bottomless.  i usually don’t cry much anymore.  i usually experience an equanimous mind.  not now.  now, i am in the underworld, in the chaos, in the bottomless feelings that feel like they will swallow me alive.  i don’t pity myself.  i don’t need to wrap stories around this.  but yes, i do.  again, this is about the feminine vain, balancing out the masculine vain.  i have spent two years developing my solar skills, dropping the story to be fully present, doing yoga to be fully present, transcending reactivity to opposites, and opening my heart to the divine within, to be love radiating like the sun outward for all to receive.  now i must bring back the feminine spiritual call, explore the narrative to weave the tapestry of understanding, write the story in order to honor the legacy, cry the tears that release my genuine calling for the hunger.  i am getting to know the narrative of myself through my bloodline…how i wound up here, stoic, alone, on stilts, looking down, wobbling my way among people and the world.  i don’t know how to get down.  i don’t know how to be somebody’s beloved.  i don’t know how to receive.  that’s why i am typing this into blog.  it is my intention that by spilling this into my sacred diary, i can surrender more into receiving what i hunger for, and live my life fully embodied, as a giver and receiver.  so much giving, it’s no wonder i have been the reluctant healer my whole life.  too much output.  and yet, i put myself here, it’s all my doing…and somehow i will undo it.  this sorrow is deeper than words, brimming up from a lost creature.  my chest aches.  i am inconsolable.  but i am also brave, and will continue to feel these feelings without apology, pity, judgement, second arrows, or false refuges….each tear replenishing the seed of new life…

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