The proverbial edge. Everyone is talking about edges. (This guy is one of my favorites, and these two as well). It's a twitter buzz word amongst the eloquently evolved beings I follow. And sure, I "get it"...I mean it's not a new concept. I was screaming about "Livin on the edge" as I curled my hair and swiped my lips with Clinique's Tenderheart lipstick in 8th grade.
From that point of view, coming from a rock band and being in an 8th-grade frame of reference (ie matrix), the edge was something for bad-asses. It was leather pants, cigarettes, having sex, doing drugs. The edge. Yeah. Bad-ass.
And now, a loooong time later, as I consume and somewhat digest probably too many other poeple's ideas, thoughts and opinions, this whole "edge thing" takes on more depth. While I was a deep 8th grader, the 'mind-forged manacles' of those days are nothing compared to the web I am untangling now.
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"Her brain doesn't work right", I heard my dad mutter as he left the living room last night, the comment directed towards my mother. I had to chuckle because I know what he sees seems so out of context.
Yesterday evening I had a routine acupuncture appointment that went anything but routine. As many of you are now, have been or will be, (the inevitable promise of this life) I am going through some BIG changes. And I am cool with it. But when our external world is changing so dramatically, the shifts that also need to take place inside require some attention, nurturing and as I experienced last night, LETTING GO.
I stepped into the room and before Lance (my needle guy healer) got to ask me, "What's going on", I blurted out, "I am feeling really emotional" and the tears began to flow. And they didn't stop for over an hour and a half. Through various needlepoints, checking-ins and the most beautiful mantra, "Hara hara gurudev" playing in the background, I approached the edge of the cliff.
The needles ensured that I was open, and my work was to be in my body, feeling where the emotion was:
It's in my chest, it's a big ball-so tight.
Stay with it Julie, allow it, love it and let it go when you are ready.
I'M READY!!! I cried from my inner most divinity. IT HURTS I KNOW BUT IT'S TIME, IT'S TIME JULIE, YOU'LL BE OK, I PROMISE. MY ARMS ARE AROUND YOU. YOU ARE SO LOVED. IT'S OK TO LET GO. YOU'RE NEVER ALONE.
It's in my throat, my jaw, my ears.
OK, OK. MY IDEAS OF HOW MY LIFE SHOULD BE AREN'T AS THEY ARE. I CAN ACCEPT THAT. I CAN SHED THOSE IDEAS. BEAUTIFUL, TENDER, LOVING JULIE...YOU TRIED MANY THINGS, HAD MANY BATTLES. YOU WERE DOING YOUR BEST. IT'S OK. YOU CAN LET GO OF THAT NOW. THOSE IDEAS ARE OVER. BE WITH WHERE YOU ARE NOW. EMBRACE WHERE YOU ARE GOING.
It's in my third eye...it's like a big heavy marble in my forehead.
At this point I have to take note of how much I am both physically and emotionally experiencing. I am literally weeping like a child. Full body convulsive crying. At times I feel cooling, tingling waves come over me and I calm down, catch my breath, am washed by the mantra. And then I move back into my body. Where am I feeling it? I am not sure how much more of this I can take. At one point I felt a incredible heat roll over me, up from my toes. The final heave. The vision. I have this vision. I have had it for so long. I am leaving my home, my country, my friends, my family. For two years. I am going to re-wire.
I am exhausted. And relieved. All of that had been living inside of me, swirling around. Being held back.
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The other day I found out that one of my dearest friends in pregnant. A few days later, my old coworker who is now a dear friend, announced her engagement. A few days after that, my cousin who is also one of my closest friends called me to tell me something. She knew she was getting engaged and she knew the wedding would occur while I was serving my term in the Peace Corps.
I wanted my joy for each of them to be greater than what I could feel. You see, all of that stuff that had to get worked out was in the way of aligning my true feelings with what I could actually feel. And my mind. My mind was in the way, with these old thought patterns: "Of course now...I am going to miss out on all of this...oh look, all of this celebration for these things: engagements, weddings, babies. Of course they seem much more joyous than measly me leaving for the Peace Corps. Who would want to celebrate that? Will I ever give my friends and family something they want to celebrate?" Should it matter?
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When I got home from my acupuncture appointment I was visibly exhausted having done some heavy inner-excavation work. I needed a little something in my belly for sleep and I needed to give my heart and mind a rest. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil some noodles and wandered into the living room where I picked up the remote for the TV and tuned in to a show about a Kardashian. I sat and stared. I don't watch TV. Anyone who knows me knows this. But I can see why people do. I needed mind-numbing right now.
So when my dad walked into the room, he was caught off gaurd as I am rarely there, propped in front of the TV. It didn't make sense. "Look at you, just home from acupuncture, wrapped in your yogi shawl, and watching THIS CRAP?"
I smile.
Walking out of the room, "There's something wrong with her brain" to my mom. My love for him expands.
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This morning my head is still pretty heavy from the work of crying. I came down stairs and decided it was a good a day as any for blueberry pancakes. I sat with my golden cakes and began to relish in each bite. About half way through my plate, I noticed that I wasn't eating the middle of the pancakes. In fact I only really liked the edges.
The middle is too soft. The edge is just right. It has hints of that soft inner, and if I had taken it any further on the heat, it would be burnt-not tasty. But as the edge gets a little more cooked than the center, a little more exposed, it becomes a nice mix of the soft center and the crispiness of being up against the heat. The edge IS bad-ass. Especially with a little maple syrup.
Hari Om tat sat.
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