Butterflies are nervously fluttering in my belly as I type this.
There's been more push back in regards to my type here on this blog, of late.
Negative comments left below my ramblings. And, I'm learning how to receive these
with gratitude and how to positively respond versus reacting from my defenses.
Just like almost every other human being, I too deeply fear rejection and judgment.
And, yet, there's some small part of me that gets that when all of this push back feels most acute,
then I am on the right path. All I have to do is keep moving forward.
Of course, there's this element of hiding that is prevalent in this blog. I'm not in front of you.
And, I'm not using my voice to share this. Typing this is easy. It has become a habit and, now,
it has also become a responsibility. Walking up to you, in public, however, and asking for your help, vulnerably sharing with you that I don't know what to do or how to proceed forward, is the hard part. It's the part I've run from and hidden from for far too long.
I have spent the majority of my adult life resisting - resisting my gifts, my purpose, my talent and all that the Universe has lovingly bestowed me with. All my resistance has gotten me, however, is into a deep hole of debt; spiritual and emotional bankruptcy. I don't want to resist anymore. I just want LOVE. Yet, I don't know HOW.
I'm so tired of my own suffering and pain, of being so damn stoic and absolutely disconnected to my own feelings. I hurt. My grief is potent. There is a huge gash in my center; my wounded feminine bleeds openly and I don't know how to heal her. It seems that all I can do is keep rubbing up against the saw-like edges. So, I type this because I'm hoping you will help me. Please, I need help.
I don't know how.
