shadow work

a smooth sea never made a skilled sailor

By February 25, 2013 No Comments

breaking the rules.
testing the limits.
encouraging unrest.
inciting inspiration.
demanding action.
pushing my way in.
screaming loudly.
kicking feet.
stomping and screaming.
pushing forward.
climbing higher.
going, going, going.

there are no rules

I speak about what I’ve experienced within my own body, fully aware and accepting of the fact that there are no facts. My interpretation of events is like anyone else’s. Some combination of real and imagined.

It’s taken me 32 years to embark on this journey. Like a fumbling giant, rick-rack knock-smacking my way into everything and everyone, I have bolted and smashed through the fine china shop of life. Hitting my mark? Well, that’s never been the problem. It’s the unrestrained force, boiling and popping over without container, that leaves me seeking balance.

It was mid-year, part way between the hot and the very hot days, when the weight of my shadows become unignorable. For a few years, I had been collecting information, attempting association with, and buying into the concept of self-molding. And then, after a visit from my mother, a series of seemingly unrelated events began to take form in my brain. The impetus for my journey was sure and clear, but just like the top of a mountain lost to the clouds, I have no sense of how or where it all might end up.

I packed up my life and moved West at 20. Chasing the sweet drug of California across the Midwest and over the Rockies, straight into the belly of the beast – the ever beautiful, but not always graceful Los Angeles.

And just like millions of people before me, I came here seeking a feeling. For me, it is a search for the feeling of home. This is the only place that I’ve really ever been able to find glimpses of that feeling, even if they are only felt in fractions of moments. So I stay and continue searching for a more permanent fixture of this feeling.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the same feeling that the pioneers chased, the reason they kept moving even after experiencing so much pain and loss. And maybe it’s the real reason we feel pride in seeing cowboys ride West into the sunset. We know what they’re looking for and we hope that they ride far enough to find it.