Breaking at the Cracks

Tucked way up there inside, hidden deeply from view I was not conscious it was there. True I had heard, ‘Let go and allow it to heal you,’ and I had been forewarned that much emotion was stored away and would likely need to be released, but for some crazy reason I thought that they were telling me of Robert. I should know better by now; he is a reflection of my own inner self. So when the tears came, they were sudden and hot, coming from a buried space within that seemed to be cracking open and spilling out its content with little regard for the moment.

We were dancing in the living room to Colby Callet’s Breaking at the Cracks and the sobs bubbled up from some deep reservoir, rising to the surface as I imagine bubbles rising through hot tar.

I told myself all kinds of reasons not to cry- how I’d scare Robert, how I had to hold it together. In the end he just held me tightly and told me to let it out. In truth I wish I hadn’t contained them at all. I wish I had fully allowed them access to the deepest parts of me for all the moments that I have had to be strong over these last 9 months, for all the fears of the unknown, and all the times I looked at my beloved and felt shock at seeing someone I had never known, someone much older than his 57 years and much weaker than his inherently strong muscular body. I felt a ripple of fear at the awareness of having him brush so close to death and my being left what felt alone.

I wish I had sobbed until there were no more tears, for though I allowed a definite expression I reigned myself in half way through. I guess it was just too painful, too much for me to fully touch as yet. But truthfully that’s just an excuse. It’s time. In each moment, as it happens, it’s time. As the emotions arise – that’s the time to fully embrace life as we are creating it. Stuffing things down, putting them aside until later – if ever- is unhealthy. I know this, and yet old patterns surfaced again. And here in Baja in my cozy casita I am supported by such beauty, such freedom. It is Nature at her most tender and sacred.

Each time I come here I am surrounded by energies that teach me and leave me in awe for what they impart. There has always been a rawness here that has drawn me and, at times, even felt a little scary too. But this trip down I immediately noticed that it felt different, just quiet. No urgent need to walk the beach or search for shells. No buzzing tension of lessons about to be imparted. Just a quiet tenderness that has enveloped me and allowed me to move as I have felt right for me.

At first I wondered have I lost it? Yet now I understand the wisdom of the Universe and how It is gently cupping me in Its embrace, tenderly caressing me to release all the stored emotions. The past 9 months in San Diego were necessary– for both Robert and me- not just for his cancer treatment, but for so much else that I had to return to face and let go of. It was monumental and I still am grateful beyond words that all transpired as it has. I have learned so much….

And now that we are here in Punta Abreojos, the sun is shining, things are being unpacked daily, and I have reentered my precious studio space and begun to paint once again I can feel the Life coursing through my days again. It is exceptional and I am so very very grateful for it all. Just writing, putting thoughts onto paper assists me to bring it up and let it out. Ahhhhh~

Oh listen! I hear my canvas calling! Time to have some breakfast and get going!

xxxooo