Transitions as Triggers
A collection of thoughts amongst an attempt at reason during a spiral of shifting and shedding
“Once I was able to name my experience, everything changed for me — and the power now rested in my hands, rather than in my condition”- from All My Language.
Yesterday, I planned my funeral, but in a good way. Not because I'm currently longing to die or hurting on the inside. But because I imagined what I wanted and began to visualize what would bring me pride and speak to my insides.
I don’t want a funeral.
Or a celebration of life.
I want a Grand Release. Or a Final Release. An outdoor ceremony filled with family and friends that begins with breathe. Centering and checking in with the feelings within- which may be pain, but hopefully is joy from all the times we spent smiling and dancing and laughing and feeling. Into a prayer, grounding in why we are there- to let go, to remember, to grieve. With incense and sage and palo santo being blown through the air.
And I hope folks don't get up and leave because then I want folks to dance. To shake that ass and clap them hands before hugging a neighbor and sharing a memory with me that brought them joy or some form of healing. I want folks to hug again and find another friend to share something inspiring and encouraging. Ending with Last Words- a poem written by me. And then I want my people to eat. To bask in good music and a beautiful feast. To make a new friend as I make my release as the easiest way to continue to honor me.
Doesn't that sound lovely?
Earlier this month I had a revelation. But I didn't feel relief. I didn't feel made new. I felt trapped. I felt seen, in a new way. By myself. I felt revealed to me. And it was sharp and hard and deep.
It wasn't a coming together, an alignment. It was more like a splitting, a literal dividing of myself into two. Each side pulling away from the other, tugging rigorously, stretching me wide, attempting to force me to choose a side- or die.
Prior to this revelation I didn't have the language. I could feel the split, an eerie feeling like something just wasn't right lingering and hovering just out of sight and reach. I knew something was off even though I was basically the same. Same routines, same environments, same tools and resources, but a different mindset.
I wrote this poem in April of 2022 and it wasn't until March 2023 that I truly began to see.
But seeing isn't always believing and doesn't always lead to action. Again, I could feel the change and see the shift, but so much of my life was the same I fell back into patterns and habits that felt comfortable. That felt safe. That felt easy, when at this time I was just beginning to experience some of my greatest challenges and deepest grief. I couldn't see how these patterns were the exact things keeping me stuck in a daily loop of fear, anxiety, doubt, and depression. I couldn't see where the loop began or how it would end. It's like I astral projected out of my body and was just watching myself on autopilot becoming my own ghost, hovering and lingering, trying to figure out where I could intervene to shake this energy.
And then it hit me. Like literally smacked me in my forehead as I lay in bed for the 3rd straight week in a row from multiple ailments and my body's immune system shut down in protest of treating her like a machine since the year began (read all my life). Demanding rest. Demanding stillness. Demanding ease and nourishment. And then choking me with the reality that it's the shift that strangles me. The in between, the movement from one thing to another. In the distance before beginning after ending I trip on my insecurities and tumble down a hill of doubt, crashing into a sea of anxiety and desperately trying not to drown. Fighting for my life I eventually climb out and as I aim to catch my breathe I am internally frozen, soaked with anxiety, doubt, insecurity and only time will move me. Worse than procrastination where I may get other things done to avoid the big thing, there is nothing. No movement, no production, no creation, no connection. Nothing. Until it is time to begin again with the few tools on my tool belt I KNOW work, corralling all my energy into this moment, this task, this time frame until completion. I had finally figured out my loop.
But what do you do when transitions are your trigger? When you know that life is nothing but change? That you will forever be in a state of shifting- nonstop beginnings and endings until death does its part?
The truth is I have no idea, lol. I have been trying to come up with something to share, to show myself that there is hope and life won't always be like this. But right now, all I have is awareness and trust. I trust that now that I know I will be able to move. I will be able to prepare. I will not be caught of guard by my trip or forget to protect my head as I tumble. I'll pack a floaty for the sea and some warm tea.
I'll remember that it's not me. I am not sabotaging myself for the fun of it. I will give myself more grace and be more kind. I will give myself more time and trust that eventually, all will be revealed.
I will begin to imagine. To visualize what would bring me pride and begin to actualize.
This is step one.
I resonate with this. Transitions can be so hard and so scary, especially when you feel them coming but don’t see them coming if you know what I mean. Being in shift is a lifelong thing!