From My Journal

Leaning Into The Unknown

Black and white image of a cat sitting in a garden in Moda, Istanbul.

When dealing with uncertainty, the best way to move through it is to find a meaningful way to connect with it. Be curious and be open – lean into the Unknown and listen to what it asks of you.

After I left my abusive husband I was facing uncertainty in every direction and within myself. The trauma of the abusive relationship had shattered my persona and left me unable to relate to life the way that I used to. I needed to rebuild both a new vision of my life and a new way of relating.

But this time things would be different.

I would bring my whole self into the process of relating. There would be no holding back, or fearful compromises or shallow attempts at anything. I would engage deeply with the world and open my heart to it.

First, I needed to unearth myself from beneath the weight of what was. And unearthing myself meant finding my own voice and reconnecting with my intuition. I felt disconnected from these two aspects of myself and they were the compass I needed to find my direction.

The voice that spoke to me – that filled me with fear and false insecurities – was not my own. It was his.

I started to write as a way to untangle my voice from his narcissistic lies which had embedded themselves in me. It was not only a way to free my voice from his but also a way to edit him out and rediscover myself at the same time.

Writing enabled me to hold lightly, play with, look at and reshape the emotions and thoughts that came when things got too dark for me. It gave me a way to hold pain and sadness without keeping it inside or suppressing it.

As I named my wounding, I was able to face the extent and reality of the abuse that had happened. I began to feel lighter and more in control of my emotions. The blank pages offered me an infinite space to explore myself and I was free to be inspired by anything that came to me.

This need to write woke me each morning at 4:20. I sat down at my desk and put pen to paper and I wrote without stopping until I felt I had reached an end. I would then edit my work.

Where I found pages filled with words related to him, his abuse and his lies, I would acknowledge them, tear them up and throw them out. Where I found myself, I would cut, correct and redefine until it reflected what I knew was true about my self.

The only rule was I had to be honest about everything I wrote.

Not only did writing become an important and enjoyable part of my life, it became a part of me. And as I played with words and meaning, it inspired my intuition and it would flow with the words and into my life.

Writing not only allowed me to free my voice from what was false and move on, it gave me a whole new way of being in the world and relating to it.

I feel that it was a gift given to me by the Unknown.

This photograph was taken in Moda, Istanbul – peering through a garden gate. 

 

 

 

 

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