flood the house.

flood the house.

Some would consider my sense of self image skewed. Hah. Image. That word…it sounds all wrong. I merely use it to articulate myself in a way that’s easily comprehended.

But then…then there are those friends who know how to ask all the right questions, who want to search and understand and just won’t settle for the generalized mass marketed answers you weave together with ease. And you’re forced to really explain, to really put structure to the abstract.

Thank god for those friends who won’t settle for “accessible.”

So thank you dear friend.

It’s not image. It’s feeling.

Let’s get real here for a sec. It’s no secret that I’ve got some stuff that’s just in my genetic makeup to care about. No matter what anyone says about being able to change or let go or whatever. It’s really gotten so much better because I have actively worked on it — but still, I know it’s something that is not going to go away. And that is fine. I have more good days than bad but it’s like a little fractured bone that will just always be “off” and painfully resurface time and again, no matter what.

My proprioception is highly acute, so muchso I feel my body in space and I feel everything both external and internal all at once. The hyper-sensation is both fascinating and demonic; it’s the same quality that makes me feel the world and its emotions, swirl it all around in my head and heart, and turn the mess into words and actions and proactivity. The kind of focused awareness I so love and cherish, that is the thing that makes me feel whole.

I feel safe when I am in a constant state of self expression; when I am engulfed in the Feeling of it all. It’s not safe FROM anything or safe TO DO anything. It is just Safe. It’s a warmth and a glow and a fluttering of the heart. It’s a smile and a phone call, a cool energy and a vacuum of hot ocean breezes. It’s a look and a knowing and a cradle of nurturing connection.

Is it any surprise that the only songs I play in my classes are the ones that make me feel?

They make me hurt and make me feel and make me feel so very safe in that moment. It’s how I work at my best and it’s how I avoid falling into a trap of ineffective sameness.

No, the way I hurt on purpose – it’s not a surprise at all.

You know, I don’t understand it when people want to feel superhuman. Exalted.  Frankly, I don’t want to feel like I am above anything or anyone. With that superhumanness or that general distant admiration comes a scary, scary feeling that all you are is a one-note surface level perception. Feeling remarkably human?  It makes me feel safe. A feeling that I’m closely connected, that I am so wholly myself that I can savour my mistakes and embarrassments and know I will be loved anyway.

The heartache. I live in it. I live in the build and expansion of the good hurt and the bad hurt and when it’s not hurting enough or not hitting a peak I am freaked out by the idea that I’m becoming ordinarily innocuous. And so in a desperate attempt to grab onto something, anything, I will do the things that make me Feel – and not the good kind. I plead for validation. I get sad at things that don’t have anything to do with me (but somehow I’ve weaved myself into the tale). I busy myself and find ways to crowd that vacuum, that one that I so love to be filled with that cool energy and hot ocean breeze.

I long to feel and I long to be focused. Because to feel so sharply and acutely without rhyme or reason  – it overwhelms, upsets, and scares me. If I have no focus or center…I just want it to go away.

All this talk of safety, it’s because of the right questions. Go figure, I didn’t even know how to explain anything else but the stock answer. Untangling it and breaking it apart made me happy. Safe in the Feeling and in the humanness.  It’s rooted in safety.  That’s how I work. I get it now.

I’ll make it my mantra. When I feel invisible, when I feel generalized, when I feel obtrusive or inconsequential.  I am safe.

So come at me. 

Make my heart hurt.

I dare you.

Make it spill open and flood my house.

Make me laugh, make me cry, make me hurt.

Make Me Feel.

Because if it Does Not Make You Feel, it Does Not Matter.

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