Today during meditation, like every other daily meditation, I asked God to show me what ‘intention’ He desired of me.
I am a seeker.
I am a visual learner.
Meditation defined: continued or extended thought; reflection, contemplation. (It is one of several definitions, but for this essay the one that fits.)
Seeking? Learning? On some level I guess that is true. Today, midway through my meditation tears flowed down my cheeks. I find myself, several hours later getting teary just remembering it. I am okay with that today. I can acknowledge that I am sensitive and emotional, I cry when I am touched by both beauty and tragedy. There appears to be an abundance of both these days. Thank God for Kleenex. I should have brought stock.
Today my ‘soul aches”. For many reasons, some that I can totally understand, some are still hidden behind the veil of fear. However, being the seeker that I am I will be able to dig until I find those hidden pieces of my soul and give them space and light. Just as I have done in the past when fear would rule the moment, the day or the year, I searched out the source and brought it into the light. Not so fucking scary when light falls on it.
Back in May of 1978 I quit. I was done, on the edge and contemplating why I even existed and whether or not to continue. I had my last drink, my last pill and my last toke. I wish I could say that I thoughtfully planned it out, to seek recovery. I did not, but I found recovery by the Grace of a power greater than myself. I became a seeker full time. My life got different. I am a slow learner. God saved me. (The term God used here is the junk-drawer-catch-all for: Higher Power, Universal Spirit/Energy, Buddha, Light Force, Dharma). I use the initials G.O.D. that convey Good Orderly Direction. Because growing up I did not receive directions/tools/information in the same format as those with healthy minds. I was raised by terrified adults who terrorized me into early adulthood, at which point I went as far away from them as possible to become safe. Years later a mental health provider would provide me with the diagnosis of PTSD. Lord that answered ever so many questions.
So today, some 13,300+ recovery days later my ‘soul aches’ still. I feel sad for all the loss in my life. I yearn for solitude, for peace, for space. My mind is, at times, a very unhealthy neighborhood for me to visit. And yet I do. I get lost in the narrow, dark, web filled hallway that is my ‘thought-page’ and I become fear ridden and a hot mess. It’s ugly and brutal and necessary. As I told my spouse recently, I will never have the orderly, logical and calm thought processes that he was blessed with at birth. He will never understand how my thought processes get me from being fine in one moment and bedbug crazy in the next. I understand it more now. It occurs far less frequently than I ever believed possible, however, I want to be normal and thus am confused when the ‘crazy’ comes ashore.
Why does my soul ache? I am still seeking. Because I am a visual learner (something I discovered in my early 50’s when I went back to college to complete my degree.) writing it down will help me on that path to discovering what it is I seek.
I’ll let you know when I find it.