Reset

After writing that (or during the beginning) I got really high last night for the first time in several years.
It felt wonderful to let go of things.
It felt like I had years of baggage winding me up and I just recognized it wasn't mine. 
At one point I laughed at how silly religions are, in that they intellectualize and ritualize the insights of being high. 
I could see how easy it would be to self medicate out of my anxiety. How connected and insightful everything feels. How it makes me feel connected (when I am not all that connected).
I can also see how quickly it would cause me to lose motivation. 
I could not be even remotely functional that way.

The shifts in perception were so lovely, even though I could tell they could also lead to paranoia. At one point I felt very much aware of my surroundings 360 view, and knew that I was simultaneously witnessing from inside and out. 

The sensory... the music, the jokes, the art, the humanness was lovely. Experienced without the head weighing it down. 

I woke up anxious as normal. Dreading that I would not be able to accomplish what I needed to in the day. It was familiar, and disappointing, balance is ok I guess. 

But I do feel lighter. Less responsible for the universe and more part of it.

I wonder if any of the "lessons" will stick with me.
Like that recognition that the circumstances that create the opportunities for difficult relationships come not from the foresight decision, but from the way we heal the wound.
If you heal the wound, you won't desire to be cut open the same way.

Like the recognition of how rigidly I hold onto the universe, try to trap it in my formulas.

Like the recognition of how I have fragmented my fun side, and how I can still dance with it's beautiful orange glowing self. Just let go,  flow, be bright, enjoy the subtle sensations of body. Give it a hug, invite it back in. No judgements for real. Just enjoying.

Like the recognition that maybe I need some sort of substance to let it go sometimes, maybe its ok and human to do so. Maybe it draws me back into the universe that I am desperate to leave. Maybe it allows me to discard all the emotions I've taken on that have wrapped around my lower back, clawed their ways into my sides, grind and clutch at my shoulders. They don't have to be stuck and gooey, I can just drop it sometimes. No more brambles and mud, the empathy can be a tool, but it shouldn't get me stuck on my journey.

Like maybe I can forgive myself and others, for our humanity, for our silliness, for our mistakes that lead to learning. That I can just love and admire again without the heaviness of judgment and shame, which are always there because I am so afraid of pain, others being in pain, etc. I can just acknowledge how good it is. I don't have to take responsibility for other people's stuff. I can just acknowledge it. 

Like maybe no one really recognizes how wound up I get, how they don't actually realize my anxiety and rigidity. How they don't see how much effort I have learned to put in, so they can't meet my needs without me telling them. They can't be there for me because I hide it. I have to be there for myself, and forgive myself, and be vulnerable myself, to let them in without wariness. To just acknowledge -hey I am a fellow human and I am hurt, and need support, before it becomes too much.

Like how the things I already knew, became simplified and focused. M needed to reject me because I was getting too close to the truth of her vulnerable inner child, she becomes afraid and runs, and avoids and hides, and schemes, just like a little one, out of self protection.

I can't do anything about that, that is someone else's stuff to deal with in this life. I can't fix folks. I can only sit with them, love them, let go of the hurt as I go. And things will flow and change, and that is good. New ideas, new possibilities, new creativity, out with the old, in with the new. It's coming either way.