The last week or so has been a deep, slow, careful examination of all the rooms in my house. The castles from tales of old that I truly believe, each and every one of us are born into. This wondrous mansion of our mind with so many rooms of wonder and delight, that some of us are then scolded, corrected, shamed or told we are not supposed to go into because of someone else’s belief of what is right or wrong for us from their view. Causing us to slowly, but surely, close doors, board up windows, hide trash and treasures far away from us, secured, covered, barred and blocked from us, for our own well-being.
Till many years later, some incident causes us to stray from the pack. There might be scratching, sounds, feelings, or keys of interest that pull us back toward are beginnings, searching for answers when things no longer add up. As our more internal clock, our heart, beckons from the dark corridor we have hidden it in. Covered up by layers of should of’s, would of’s and maybe’s where the tiny spark of us that still burns in hope, awaits. Softly flickering, beckoning us to seek, open, try… something, anything other than what has been taught, schooled, and suggested is the only way.
I have been told that sometimes the experience to start the renovations is much like driving down the road a hundred miles an hour and you hit a tree. Run smack dab against the deepest, most special part of one’s heart, the place of hope and the answer that confronts you is so very wrong feeling. It goes so much against the grain, after you have worked so hard to achieve the brass ring of someone else ideals and your very spirit cries “Enough”. You may have had to pick yourself up several times in your life, as you continued to struggle toward this elusive goal. But this time, your body says “No” hundreds of times louder than ever before. With the pain of betrayal of self, evident in the extreme tiredness of any movement one single step further toward where you think you are supposed to be going.
That has been this last week. I received a reply asking me why from the stance of another, now, as a grown-up they wanted to know. I have tapped at least two or three hours every day, amazed at the doors, closed in my past from trying to get it right and fit in. Finding rooms overflowing with stuff that I took the time to go through and clean out. Finding some of it fixable, some of it perfect never even used, some of it just plain, simple, a whole lot of trash both blocking and behind the doors.
I have cleaned up the good, repaired the interesting, useable, worthwhile, and thrown out all things that do not mean anything to me now. Following the quote from “If when using a theory it doesn’t work on even one horse, then it is a tool, not a rule” from Cindy Hawk Sullivan. Realizing how much that works for a lot of my beliefs now sorted into the proper places in my life utility box of tool ideas that are useable some of the time when applicable or necessary.
I checked up on a lot of those old beliefs, realizing they got me through some era of my life. They have been thoroughly scrutinized for their roles, tuned up, changed, or discarded with total love and appreciation. I am free. I realize I owe no one. I am my own person. I chart my own course from now on. I am quite the sailor of my vessel, now that it has been updated, made ship shape, polished, restocked and organized to set sail on my chosen path of “Now”, right this moment toward loving and approving of myself. Every single cell, tissue, gland and part just like I am, because I am fantastic, I did it, I made it to today as I easily and readily cut the cord of my trash barge of beliefs from all my yesterdays.