Embodiment. the representation or expression of something in a tangible or visible form.
This. This right here calls to me on a deep soul level. To express myself in a visible or tangible form as it brings me more freedom and creativity. Not worrying about perfection or getting something right, but just expressing myself authentically in this physical reality. My reality. This movement, this dance that breaks down walls and melts icy barricades flows so smoothly and in sync with my own rhythm. Encompassing all that I am and ever dream to be, embodiment captures my essence as she lulls me with her song, bringing me ever closer to her bosom.
She sings. I dance. She drums. I find my voice. This connection between creative force and visible form are so strong that the pull anchors me to the ground. There is no denying that she is me and I am she. We are interwoven together in this magical tapestry of the soul; knowing that without a physical manifestation of our creations, they cease to form.
We must speak out our truths, move our bodies, feel our own rhythms, and express ourselves in a tangible way in this world. Look at me! Look at us! We are vibrant, moving, fluid, sensual beings that have worth, whether you say so or not. I am worthy because I am me. And this is my unique spark to the world, to myself; these gifts of the feminine that run through my veins. This mystical flame that will never yield, but will always burn hot. I am movement. I am courageous. I am infinite.
This is my life. This whirlwind of ups and downs, moments of creative motivation and times of complete mental loss. This space between my two realities; one of absolute creative, life-giving energy, and the other is absolute death and desertion. I am always in this flux between these worlds of mine, striving for health, joy, connection, creativity and life, but knowing and wondering when this other reality will come crashing down on me.
I read Divine Suicide: Depressive Breakdown as a Call to Awakening, by Jeff Foster, and something within me opened and began to release. Tears came to my eyes, relief flooded over me, and I felt understood. To quote Jeff Foster, "It's interesting that the word "depressed" is spoken phonetically as "deep rest." We can view depression not as a mental illness, but on a deeper level, as a profound (and very misunderstood) state of deep rest, entered into when we are completely exhausted by the weight of our own (false) story of ourselves. It is an unconscious loss of interest in the second-hand -- longing to 'die' to the false. This longing needs to be honored, not medicated, meditated or analysed away."
I have known since the beginning of the year that something of me needed to die; fall away; be released. I'm still not sure what it is, but I am allowing it to have space. Taking time to FEEL what needs to be felt. SPEAKING what needs to be spoken. And LIVING into what needs to be given life. This 'death' of myself is rattling every fiber of my being. I become lost in my two realities, wanting one to fall away and be done with me already. I know I must acknowledge them both, give them each their space, all while taking measures to maintain my well-being.
Again, Jeff Foster states, "It's amazing what can evolve naturally when depression and the desire for suicide (which is the desire for the deep rest of yourself) are truly honored, met, embraced, held, and you do not flinch from pain or turn away from it. It's amazing what can happen when you actively listen to the one in front of you from a loving place of non-judgmental acceptance, trusting the intelligence of life itself, and allowing the divine and loving suicide of awakening to weave its mysterious magic."
When are we going to honor ourselves? When are we going to feel our pain, face it head on? When will we listen to ourselves without judgment? When will we realize that we just want to live; live fully and passionately?
This life of mine is messy beautiful. This flux of inclusion and seclusion of self can be debilitating, but I am gaining more consciousness and awareness of my own state of 'deep rest.' I am feeling into my body, using her as a guide as she confides in me daily. All I need to do is listen. The days I can, I will embody my truth, feeling every fiber of my being, even when it's excruciating. I need to sit with my pain and joy, allow them to bring me back to oneness; knowing that when I do, I am more fully present and alive. That this is a season, and I have all the time in the world. And to just breathe.