Body Talk Re-Weaving the Fabric of My Life
I then headed into work listening and feeling for more information. I drove… letting words ramble in and out of my head. Some of them consisting of old stories which now when they come up to present themselves to me, I realize these stories always hold clues. Much like an old tapestry with millions of wonderful threads, whose picture, though present seems fuzzy, out of focus. The patterns from before thrown together for a quickly finished, shady project, lacking the luster and warmth of love and lif,e understood and fully lived. In the hurry of the weaver to just get it done, finished, to be able to go on to the next.
I have been gathering each thread as I find the trail of where and how it has been sewn into my past memories, with only the view I had known in the past. Awareness now changing the entire selection into a beautiful, luscious, engaging view as I learn to find the understanding that was missed before, with all of my anger, blame and low sense of self, in trying to live my life by making others happy.
A very strong memory comes to the surface, it is one that has risen many times in the past, gathering my full attention to the lack of my own follow through because I loved and respected others wishes before mine. “Before mine” my mind shot back at me, as I wrestled with the frustration so easily to come to the forefront. I shook it off, but in the shaking, rattled a new thought which found me. Now before my mind’s eye flashed a dozen different times I would date others to fit into the mold I had been taught since small. How much this one scenario and a few others differentiated from the strict guidelines always causing me to think my choice out. Then I would choose to make nice, keep everyone happy, placing another bar on the door, another thread woven, forced into place.
As I am watching these stories, I suddenly feel and find peace… I am okay, I get it. The ahhh so felt in the sigh, here was this guy, I was friends with, I would do anything for, I was miles (374) away from home. No one to watch, judge, speculate or tell on me. I was on my own. Four of the six scholarships I had received at graduation, plus working 80 hours a week had given me my freedom. I was away at a rodeo college, deep in the middle of Texas mountains, the nearest next big town 150 miles north, south, or east. Pristine, gorgeous, clear, clean skies, miles of nothing but views, horses, cattle, cowboys…free! Free to choose, pick, and decide for myself. He was in several of my classes. We were just friends. He had all the things I so desired, dreamed about, wanted. Horses, truck, trailer, dogs, and he roped. We played cards, aggravated, teased, just a great friend. He discovered my tendency for working for a quick buck, and his immense dislike for cleaning. So we traded, apartment cleaning, truck washing, pants mended, whatever he came up with…I accomplished.
He liked the girl in the dorm room next to me, I instigated a date. We were friends. I met his folks, they liked “me”. I was cool with just being friends, having fun. Second semester, suddenly my mom offers to contribute to my college by paying for every other semester, after…I completed the previous one.
Suddenly my mind sees the miswoven thread. I had mistakenly in my mind given up my freedom to choose. Now I was doing everything to tow the mark, to have them help fund half my college. Somewhere I bought into from old years of practice of my past if I screwed up and didn’t make them happy, “I”, who was not like the others. “Cathy” and all the myriads of nicknames no one at college knew, so I got to totally reinvent myself. I was “allowing” myself to believe they held the answers, they held the keys, I was not good enough. So when they met him, as he helped load my stuff on their truck to take me back home for the summer. They informed me by both their looks down their noses at him, plus the long speech of where would my life be if I were with a cowboy, remember “their” game plans.
So I walked away, and kept walking away from the few I did meet, and his picture that kept resurfacing. Cause of this feeling, woven tight, deep, and constantly through my life, which I allowed to put a strangle hold on me. Including, as I was re-examining it now, as I weave it into the new place of beauty and freedom. That story was also a total match for my financial pattern. Always working, striving aiming for this mark down the road. Where only when I live up and fulfill this ideal from and to please others will I receive the pot of gold they had extended out as an ever lengthening carrot stick.
Wow, I rock, I am listening, my body is communicating, I find the answers, the pains, and aches disappear. I am incredible, I am allowed…To be anything, anybody, whatever flips my switch. Today is another step in my continuing journey toward all of me!