Specifically, what I am realizing is that every grain of our bodies is suffused with experience, some of it good, and some of it what we label bad. And what I am realizing, in my own healing, is that my task it not just to accept the bad, but to enter into it with curiosity, which, again, is the opposite of trauma.
You have to be able to explore a house of horrors–something from a Saw movie–with openness and curiosity. It is all gone now. The terror is gone. The novelty and newness and unexpectedness is gone. But it is still there. The memories are still there. There is a gallery in my consciousness that welcomes me, that welcomes my visiting, that wants to make my acquaintance, that wants to tell me its story openly, rather than through symptoms it is forced to use to capture my attention and maintain its own sense of existence.
The task is to do this exploration, not with fascination or repulsion, but with curiosity and interest. To CONNECT with it in a relaxed, perambulating way.
My shaking is not going to kill me. Accepted, it is not that unpleasant. My task is to “massage” it–to take a term directly from Kum Nye, where mNye means “massage”: to loosen it up, to give it space, to let it breathe, to give it life and wings and release it.
I get glimpses of light sometimes. I felt a powerful rainbow last night, and it made me very sad. That was a small blink of the home we all come from, and are destined to return to. It is so hard to remember light, living in such a dark place.