fear stories are larger than this body…

fear. it is real. it is big. it can hijack peace. it did for me yesterday. big time. there are few instances that trigger me so hard core that all i can do is sit in silence and process. i don’t want distraction, i cannot find pleasure. i just need calm. life provided. my friend wrote me. she always pops up on email whenever i get triggered into massive fear and anxiety. subconscious radar. just having her read my anxious words and return some grounding comments, really helped. luckily i don’t need much to take the fear down to a more palpable level. i am still in it too. somehow i managed to sleep and woke up less scared but the fear is still with me. i also hurt my back yesterday randomly and cannot do yoga, my medicine. i will go for a long walk. sometimes walking is better. in usual fashion, i quickly unearthed the root causes of this fear. the family of origin roots and the soul roots. the big lesson is about self sovereignty. remembering that i chose this life path i am on and that i can maintain my autonomy when presented with the big emotions of others. i find it fascinating how fear creates false stories. first thing to understand: all stories are make believe. the only objective truth is that i am breathing and alive, and even that could be argued. but i mean false according to the truth in my heart. how fear can make me believe i don’t want something i truly want. how fear can make me feel aversion instead of the attraction. how fear can basically be this story-bully that makes me think i am not living the life i want, but instead living the life i am forced to live by some force bigger than me ordaining my destiny. this story could not be fully believable if not for the fantasy fear generates as the supposed contrast to what i am being forced into, my supposed life of choice. this fantasy life always is lived some place else, far far away from reality. not that there are not dreams i have had to let go of through the years. and i don’t believe in campbell’s following your bliss theory, to be honest. i think life is much more complex than doing what you feel really good about only. i hear alex in my mind after yesterday: look for good enough, not the best. don’t look for ease. don’t try to grasp the great feeling. not knowing safety in the world in the past is a good tool for understanding. i know it. i know it hard and i know it soft. she contained my anxiety story with pragmatic responses. the unknown is scary. and then came the deeper stuff about being an empath. don’t shut it down, it’s a gift. learn how to take in the feelings of others without losing self. that’s the real key right there: self. to fully incarnate as the creator of my life. my myth has always been one of submission. i was forced into terrible acts, forced into body, forced into being a healer, forced into being a spiritual channel for other beings. this force story is an illusion created by fear. we all have them. something tangible kicks it off. i was forced into terrible acts. i did swallow myself to survive the scary domination of the other. this tangible experience is the seed to the now, very large tree of my submission myth. details get muddled. knowing what i want and don’t want becomes unclear. anxiety likes to live inside the swords of indecision. it all makes crystal clear sense to me. what is your story created by fear? i am operating in the first chakra right now. scarlet and soil. stamping my foot down into the earth, claiming my space. past lives hit me in deluges, not just mine, all of them. all of the people shot to death, raped and enslaved by the dominant other. the core is enslavement. i cannot explain fully in blog how deeply this wound runs, but it lives inside the very atoms of my blood and nectar of the soul. i will not be free until we all are free is the voice of my soul. i chose this. healing is the protocol and largely why i am incarnated. i chose this path, it chose me, we met in the middle. this aint the garden of eden, folks. at the same time, the healing process is about feeling freedom and experiencing joy. i wanted his arms to hold me last night as he tells me i am just having a freak out and everything will be ok. i wanted to banter with him while cooking something yummy followed by an evening walk through the city streets. something like that. i could not find joy last night. soul hunger is real too. but i got through the storm with some grace too. it was good enough. the journey continues on…

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