I’m burned. So burned. Smoke is rising off my body. I found a square of paper listing free classes at the TWU student fitness and wound my way through ‘power flow yoga’ at 4:30. The soot squeezed itself through my muscles.
I took a black Sharpie last weekend and wrote down everything painful I have retained from others in the past. It was twiggered I mean triggered from turtle and I visiting Uncle Paul. Uncle Paul’s bitterness/negativity/tension/perseveration was at a high tide, and in a new person’s presence (turtle’s), it really stood out. We traded observations in the car, and I thought of how much time I’ve spent with Uncle Paul in the past two years… and what I might have absorbed from him in his words, his choices, his actions, his attitudes, his emotions… and how some of it did cause me pain, but I glanced down at the wound and did nothing, kept staring at him and listening for his sake. And I’ve borne others’ pain for a pretty long time. A pretttty long time. This is what deters me from counseling–too strong of an empath.
So last weekend I wrote down all the scorching words and burned them in my bathroom sink. I know that’s not the end. I’m going to yoga again today. Transform-a-thon!
