1 post tagged “your truths”

So last night I had a dream.

I was moving around, feeling pulled in different directions, being asked to participate in events and things that held no meaning for me. I was in this state of perpetual turmoil as I tried to find ways to twist myself to meet the needs of the others around me. As I stared at a number of commitments I made, none of them things I truly wanted or felt inspired to do, I found myself going to each person and coming up with stories or reasons as to why I would not be able to accommodate them. Avoiding the most direct and truthful reasons.

The shorter term for this would be, lying.

As I released myself from every unwanted obligation, within the dream, a new sub-obligation would make itself known to me. I would be asked to compromise. A further nudge for me to take a smaller action, less painful, but still not what I wanted to do. I acquiesced to those requests, feeling guilty about saying no and embracing my wants for myself.

As I began to drive around town in a hectic race to honor these commitments that meant nothing to me, I found myself angry. Resentful. Bitter. I complained all the while crafting the mask I would wear the moment I left my truck and pushed my thoughts and feelings more deeply into the curled Cobra that resides in my bowels. He swallowed the small mouse I offered with disdain as I negotiated for enough quiet to make it through another sacrifice.

As I continued on my travels, trying to be whatever it is I'm supposed to be for each party, I begin to take calls en route. The phone is constantly ringing. Each time it's someone telling me something that I'm supposed to believe. Something I'm supposed to think. Something I am supposed to do. Each time, with intermittent strategies of logic or arrogance or guilt, I am cajoled into accepting their truth as my own. The serpent in my stomach begins to unravel and my mind struggles to send him another mouse to keep him quiet.

As I reach my last location in the dream, I come face to face with the lies I've told in order to buy myself a little bit of peace. Lies to each of them. Lies to myself. I find one person I'm supposed to meet, standing beside another person I canceled with.  Everything in me churns and I work feverishly in my mind to build another pyramid of excuses or stories that will allow me to leave this event unscathed. Two more people come into the room, their brows furrowed with annoyance, preparing to express their frustration about something they felt I should have done for them, but didn't.

Surrounded by them, my anxiety is so high I'm feeling like I'm going to faint in front of them. Part of me wants to cry and ask them why they all can't see that I just need this tiny space to be me. The other part wants to wail at them that at some point, I'd like them to consider returning even half of the effort I am always expected to make for them. I want to be a victim. I want to apologize for lying. I even want to shame myself for my wants.  As I open my mouth to speak however, it's not my voice that leaves me. It's the Cobra. Everyone recoils in horror, trying to put as much distance between me and them. As he sits taut and ready before them, I feel all the anger he's been swallowing on my behalf. More than that, I feel a lost long sense of entitlement and the loss of the shame that was fueling my anxiety just moments before.

And in this dream, I look at all the faces standing around me with the varied expectation of me. To fix things, heal things, entertain them, accommodate them and carry the weight of the lies they make their own truths. And I begin to tell them each individually, why I have lied. And what I really want from them. What I expect from them. I apologize for my lies, but I tell them why I did it. Some of them stood awestruck. Some of them simply shrugged it off, impervious to any notion that they play a part in our dance. Others showed a glimmer of understanding.

But I didn't wait for them to answer me. I turned and I began to walk away from them. Jittery, a little shaken but feeling the biggest burden, the burden of secrets, lifted from me. I didn't look over my shoulder as I got into my truck and drove off. I wasn't worried about who would remain with me in this moment of uncomfortable truth or who would angrily turn and leave my life forever.

I no longer cared.

When I woke, I could feel the soreness in my shoulders from the reflexive action of tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing. My head felt light and airy, as it feels just before a vertiginous spin. I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, exhausted from tumultuous slumber.

I got the message loud and clear.

There is no compensating for your truest intentions and desires. There is no compromising yourself and your needs for the sake of what makes others feel comfortable. There is no bartering with your emotional, spiritual being. There is only your truth. And any time you hide, bury, overlook or try to evade your personal truth, it will come back with a vengeance like that coiled Cobra. It will demand you hear it, respect it and express it. The longer you resist, the longer you agonize and the morempainful your personal shedding of those old beliefs promises to be.

Today, my wish for you, for each and every one of us, is that we find our many truths. No matter how big and small...we must give them a voice. Find your voice, feel your every feeling, embrace your every desire that makes you free. And say what you need to say. And let no one EVER deter you from it. Therein lies our freedom.

I dedicate this to my friend Lisane, who was the first one to teach me the first steps to my personal freedom.