I think I’m almost ready to tell my story.
The real story of what’s been going on for me and happening through me these last couple of years. Everything else seems like a kind of creative avoidance, a perpetual dancing around the point.
But the thing is that when you’ve been to "hell and back" you’ve got to actually make it back to be able to tell the tale and I’m not quite there yet. I have glimpses of surfacing, but like the mythic woman’s journey into the dark underworld, she’s got to resurface with the treasure before she can gift it, before the tale really makes any sense at all. The descent has to be complete before the ascent can truly begin. You've got to survive to be able to tell the tale of how you made it.
Most dark-night-of-the-soul stories end with some grand rebirth into the light and while I’m catching glimpses for sure, my sun hasn’t fully risen yet. My story however is beginning to stir, it wants to surface.
I know that telling it requires that I allow myself to be seen in a new way, it requires that I shed the final threads of shame about this passage through what has felt like an out-of-control darkness. There is still a hesitancy to be real, naked, and vulnerable to that extent. I have a reluctance to be visible and truly seen and to admit my humanness. It’s far easier to omit the gritty parts, to be selective about what gets out. Telling my story requires that I fully own it and release all doubt I’ve had about the validity of my experience. I understand now that every experience on this human journey is valid simply because it's happening.
Telling my story requires trust that somehow you, the witness, will gain something from me sharing it. Trust that my undergoing has not all been for nothing. Will my story be safe in your eyes, mind, and heart?
I’m feeling more and more certain, as I sense it stirring, that my story must, indeed, be told. Regardless of your response. This journey's been all about making peace with me from the inside and that's where this story will be told from.
So, I am allowing it to form and crystallize in it’s own time. Just as this story lived me, I will allow for it to be told through me when the time is right. In the meantime, I stay with the process, keep showing up, and hold steady for my own imminent rebirth and the tale to follow.
I am resurfacing with treasure.