Day 92: The Nest of Strings

I think part of my condition on this earth is my utter fear of human beings.

I don’t mean this to sound negative or like a joke. I seriously think my main issue in my life is PEOPLE. This is a problem. People are everywhere.

It’s not that I dislike people. I love people.

I fear something I love. This love/fear dynamic can be compared to my love of food and fear of expanding the spare tire around my waist and/or my chin line. Though people do not  inflate me, they deflate me.

I’m a sponge of sorts, soaking up people’s troubles and holding troubles, and then releasing the troubles; only in the process I get weighed down, troubled myself, and depleted in energy reserves. I suppose part of this current sponge experience is a result of my previous learnings.



What I’ve Learned

I learned through observation that if I acted kind and carefully, people wouldn’t hurt me, usually.

I learned that if I didn’t act a certain way, I would be teased or ostracized.

I learned that some people could find me and affect me no matter how I acted.

I learned that if I shared from my heart, I would be misunderstood.

I learned that if I was me, I could become invisible.

I learned to play games.

I learned to blend in.

I learned better to blend in than to stand out.

But then I longed to stand out.

I longed to be noticed and I longed not to be noticed.

I didn’t know what place was in between my longing.

Where to stand?

Sometimes I became beautiful through others’ eyes.

Through my physical beauty, I gained attention.

Attention that never felt real or pure.

Attention I longed for nonetheless.

My physical beauty aged and youthfulness faded.

I learned that people notice what they want to notice and take what they want to take.

They like a piece or part of me and then when the section no longer serves them, they leave.

They leave the part, and in leaving, they leave the whole of me.

I learned I desperately wanted love, but I wasn’t supposed to ask for love.

I wasn’t supposed to appear weak.

If I wanted love, I needed to appear strong, as if I didn’t want love.

As if I was completely satisfied in being in isolation.

I never understood this illusion of strength in aloneness.

Why people pretended they were not frightened.

Why people pretended they were an entirety, when in truth they were only an ingredient.



I don’t know if there is anything else that permeates the depths of my soul like the fear of people. Beyond the pretending and questions, perhaps my depletion occurs is the energy I pick up. The health symptoms of others I take on, the friends and relatives, and sometimes strangers who visit me in my dreams. Perhaps my fear stems from the humiliation of my youth or the loss of loved ones. Whatever the cause, from wherever this fear was rooted, it remains a tall plant intertwined within my very being. I see sucker plants sticking, prickly burs stuck. I see small specks of blood. I see rough, sword-like leaves stabbing and cotton ball seeds blocking. These are the people stuck in and about me.

I don’t know why. I don’t think I want to know why. But I do wish to change this reality. I do wish to know without question that people are not to fear. I don’t want to think about how to do this. Don’t want a plan of action or a list. I don’t want to try to change things anymore. Trying doesn’t work. I just want to believe. I want to shift. This is my reality. Shifting the fear to love.

I took out a box today from my closet marked: Spectrum Intuitive Teachings, a small box that I’d shoved in the back of my daylight basement closet months ago, without second thought. I was done with my business, my successful business. I had to quit, so I thought, because, I wasn’t doing the right thing according to someone in the world. Just like that I changed my life, believing I should not do what I’m doing.

I shoulded on my self. My fear has led me to should on my self a lot.

I’m still processing my actions. What was I thinking? Why did I change my life to please a stranger I’ve never even met? Why did I compromise? Why did I change?

I have these chameleon tendencies. I was not born a lizard. But I act like one. I change colors adapting to my environment, change appearance in hopes of blending in and not being spotted.

What is so bad about being spotted?

The fear.

And so at the heart of me is fear.

At the core penetrating my every action is fear.

Today, I release this fear.

I choose to transform this fear.

I have no one to fear.

Even though the voices shout loudly: Fear You. Fear Them. Fear. Fear. Fear. I know these are untruths.

I know much of what I learned are untruths.

Today, I untangle the untruths—a giant ball of intertwined string.

I let the untruths spiral out down a long staircase, to disperse, to lessen, to unravel, until all that remains is a long string of blue.

And then, seeing clearly and easily, I snip away at the string.

I create little pieces of untruths.

In my hands I gather the clippings.

The tiny, tiny remains.

I blow with my spirit breath.

Disperse them into the air.

The angels come now.

Take the strings away to their nests in the sky.

Where the strings are used to house the young ones.

The innocent.

The newborn.

The strings  transform and serve as comfort and shelter.

I transform my giant core of fear into sheltering love.

This I see.

This I am.

And thusly, so are you.

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The Wounded Healer