I’ve been flying higher than ever before. I have the images and stories in mind, heart and in words. I forgot my mantra of “the higher I fly the lower I dive.” My body didn’t forget.
As a young child I hid in the bathroom hitting the walls with my fists. Why not? Mom hid in the bathroom in deep depression going to the hospital on occasion for shock treatments. Dad was often gone and more often silent. “Fatty Patty” in third grade still carries its self-consciousness. Early on I learned the cycle of ups and downs.
It has been a long time since I hit bottom yet it plays out in smaller ways through binge eating that is self-destructive. My pattern has always been to express rage towards myself—like someone who cuts themselves. Intense! Mom became deaf as child; dad was abused. I carry their pain as I heal their pain. This emotion cuts to the core of potential.
I have new information now. I have new work and new tools. The downs pull on me. The ups pull on me. As a child I rode my bike for miles. I will ride this morning as a new child aware of the down/up motion of moving gears. My body supports me into the unknown and I give thanks even as it feels heavy. When I was paralyzed for three days Light was with me as a small speck at Third Eye. Light gets me through again and again but this time I need to lose a brain pattern. I am anxious because of so many downs. And yet I know how to fly.
My usual light-heartedness is somewhere nearby. I let this healing process move me.
