I have found myself tongue-tied as of late. Not that it keeps me from speaking. Rather, I sometimes find my mouth running amuck. In groups where I normally feel reserved and shy, I am speaking without reserve. In part, I am self-encouraging, since I am finally embracing the idea that a good part of my path is about The Word…written and verbal. The writing part has always come much easier. Speaking has been a huge challenge for me, and my old pattern was to remain as invisible as possible, only speaking after I made sure I had “taken care” of everyone else, and even then, only saying that which I knew would be unthreatening. Now that I am editing less…even thinking less…before I speak, afterwards, for days, I am cringing and wincing over imagined, unintended, impact. My role has always been that of the listener, and far more rarely the speaker.
In part I am excited…the concept that I can offer my thoughts without prior approval is revolutionary for me. I am relieved of much of the tension I have often felt in relating, especially in groups, over feeling heard. A heavy heartedness that often came when I didn’t offer my personal inspiration is dissipating. Along with this comes unease, as I finesse the balance between adding to community and stepping back to make room for others. The Old Way was to step out of the way completely, so now that I am taking up more room, it is hard for me to gauge if it is “too much” or not.
The only reason this can happen right now is that I am part of several lovely and compassionate communities, whose members have done enough interpersonal work so that they can take responsibility for their experience, creating an atmosphere free of blame, and no egg shells to walk on. Added up as a group, it means that there is a lot of spaciousness for everyone to step into. In the therapy world we talk about “the container” and it applies to what I am speaking of here. The container for the group is held by each individual, and in my current connections, that container is large, with a strong surrounding boundary. The individual is free to unfold and unfurl within the gracious arms of the larger whole.
When new members come into a group, or when there is a large turn over, my experience of myself becomes different. For a time, there is a period of feeling unsure and a little less safe, until once again the container firms up and new strangers become trusted friends. I am realizing that as a blogger, it feels like that container never quite firms up all the way. Many of my readers know me in real life, and others I know well virtually. Then there are new comers who I extend a certain amount of trust to, since they were attracted to the morphogenetic field of my little corner of the internet, following the bread crumbs left by other trusted blogging souls. There are also those who frequent my pages but are silent, and to you I extend that certain amount of trust as well, since I imagine you wouldn’t come back if this wasn’t a cozy space for you.
We all know the pitfalls of putting anything out there on the web. It potentially will be there “forever”, to be used against us by any creepy or ill mannered schmuck. What I share about my life becomes public property. I would be well advised, then, to choose my words carefully, only offering bite sized morsels that are palatable to all. Not such a great option, for someone who 1. Uses her blog as a spiritual practice, to bring forth into expression that which would otherwise remain in the imaginal realm and 2. “Palatable to all” is far too familiar of that old Modus Operandi that I am trying to shuck.
Thus, why I am tongue tied. I have been going through a rich, deep, and often painful, process since Leo died. It is literally changing the foundation of my life. His passing and my subsequent realizations will be reverberating into my future, in perpetuity. There is so much I am learning. losing and gaining simultaneously, that I would love to share it’s richness. However, much of it would definitely seem “unpalatable” to some, even just in the sharing of darker emotions. My feelings are also still so tender, that it feels far too big of a risk to expose them to an internet community whose members I don’t truly know. This is the crux for me…I DO know some of you, even just via our blogs and emails and I would love to bring you in closer. I am realizing that this may just be an unsatisfied desire, until that gorgeous day when we meet face to face. This blog cannot be the container.
What is Terrallectualism if it is not “in reference to my style of writing which, regardless of intention, always contained the element of deeper personal understanding through relatedness with the natural world.”? I write from the seat of my heart. Trying to withhold pertinent details silences the birdsong of my soul.
So I have some figuring out to do. Perhaps the first step was to speak of the unspeakable, creating a bridge over an internal canyon. There will still be photos. And stories, recipes and inspirations. There will be musings and calls to action, and ways of weaving us all together. My hope is that I can also find a way to share the song of myself from inner space, in a way that continues to feel safe-enough.
Each of us plays a part in the music of the spheres.