On a journey

I had another day of breaking down today, just for the first part of the morning.  I was not as riddled with body symptoms this morning, I was able to break free of them earlier in the day, I also have therapy this afternoon and there I am fully me and can be in touch with my soul, so that may have made a difference.  However what I noticed over past days is that thoughts of how much I seemed to have ‘failed’ in extroverted socially oriented ways are dogging me with destructive punishing thoughts.

I was listening to an interview this morning with Australian novelist Alex Miller this morning who has just published his most biographical novel recently.  In it apparently he chronicles his young years as a stockman, his marriage and the following years of feeling lost and isolated while seeking to birth himself as a writer.  One thing that was spoken of was how the search for personal meaning is so important and how so often the possessions or physical aspects of our life can block this search for meaning.  I had just been pottering around my own house which sometimes can feel like a bit of a prison to be honest.  My dog Jasper was looking at me with that penetrating gaze and seemed to be asking of me some stillness, I had thoughts of how much I have struggled in the past 10 years during my midlife journey both to come to terms with and understand my past while birthing a deeper self to make something of my life in some way.

I then seemed to be totally overcome with pain, sadness and tears.  I was dogged with thoughts of how I should stop boring everyone with my blogs about personal failure and struggles and get real. This I am aware comes from my inner critic because then I logged on to find so many beautiful responses to recent posts from valued followers and my heart was so touched.  I realised how much writing and my blog brings into my life, how much I get from reading about other people’s honest struggles and journeys and that is when I realised that I need to focus on the present, on the gifts in my life, and there are many.  Perhaps I have not achieved all that others have in the world, but in my personal life I have tried my best to love my family and friends and keep moving forward in my recovery.  This post may be of a similar theme to yesterday’s one but its important I keep writing for my own soul.   I don’t want to be silent again.

I went out to have my morning coffee and took the new volume of poetry that arrived in the post today.  I read this beautiful poem from Lang Leav’s collection : The Universe of Us.  It resonated and touched me so deeply and seems to pertinent to where I find myself today:

The Redwood Tree

My father once told me about an old redwood tree – how she stood tall and proud – her sprawling limbs covered in emerald green.  With a smile, he described her as a mere sapling, sheltered by her elders and basking in the safety of a warm, dappled light.  But as this tree grew taller, she found herself at the mercy of the cruel wind and vicious rain.  Together, they tore relentlessly at her pretty boughs, until she felt her heart would split in two.

After a long thoughtful pause, my father turned to me and said, “My daughter, one day the same thing will happen to you.  And when the time comes, remember the redwood tree.  Do not worry about the cruel wind and vicious rain – but do as that tree did and just keep growing.”

This gives me hope that my critic does not see the whole truth and reminds me I will be okay if I just keep staying open and growing.  I am on a journey.