I posted a while back about being inundated with references to exploring the stories we’ve allowed to define our lives. Ever since I’ve been periodically asking myself what story I have that set me on or keeps me on a given path.
This weekend I had some thoughts flash through my head about my childhood as only child, only grandchild, only niece to childless aunt. Four strong adults surrounding me who all had different ideas about how I should live, what I should do, who/how I should be. I’ve explored that territory and how I folded inward under those contradictory pressures quite a bit.
This time, though, I suddenly thought. “But the one thing they could agree on was that I shouldn’t be me.” And then, “And I should be prevented from living the life I want to live at all costs.” And boom. Reverberation throughout my being. I’m pretty sure if somebody snapped a photo of me in that moment a light would appear above my head.
Long ago as I faced failure after failure at trying to create an income doing things I liked to do, I realized that I believed on some level you can only make money from doing things you don’t like; deeply ingrained family belief. I’ve done some deep work on releasing that one.
But never before did I see that I also have a story about not being myself that links to a story about it not being okay to do the things I love most. Wow. So pleased to release that story!
Over the same days I also kept periodically having these weird visions every time I worked with a knife or scissors of slipping somehow and stabbing myself in the eye. Then while watching figure skating, same thing, this time with a skate blade coming at me. These are not usually thoughts I have nor do I carry some deep fear of sharp objects so I went inward and asked why I kept having these visions.
Clear as a bell the thought arose, “You were stabbed in the eye in a past life and that’s the piece that’s unwinding behind your eye right now.” Well okay. Happy to let go of that story I didn’t know I had. And I’ll be really delighted to be able to slice an onion without visions of eye stabbing…
I’m particularly enjoying the feeling that both of these stories floated away as soon as I noticed them. I’ll contemplate that to see if it stays true but so far I feel no need to pound pillows, plan a ceremony, burn a list or any other such means of release.
I may need a while to let “it’s okay to be me” soak in though.