When Pandora opened the container left in care of her husband, she unleashed all sorts of curses upon mankind. When the lid cracked open, all evil escaped into the wilderness, leaving one thing at the bottom. It was hope. But the hope is the worst of them all. By hoping for or expecting a good life that we can never have, we prolong our torment. It had me stuck, lying to myself, hoping that things will get better on their own. It was despair that had set me free.
I found my way to spirituality. It was a tough one. I am used to watching rituals of sorts that others claim bring them relief. I am used to watching spiritual addiction. I never had much respect for that sort of thing. Little did I know about true spirituality! As it turns out it is all about responsibility, honesty and shadow work. Spiritually is about forgiveness. There is no spirit in doing things that would change the world. Prayer does not change what is outside, it changes the heart of the one that is praying.
In May last year I asked God to bring me resolution and healing. He sent me someone whose presence was a beautiful opportunity to heal. This time I used it well. It was beautiful in many ways, that helped me stick to the process. It was tought though. I am still trying to figure out if I am fully done, but I think I am. I feel the entire rainbow of emotions, peace, sorrow, bliss. I may be still transitioning as a new understanding of life is being uncovered to my eyes. Some two weeks ago I did a Radical Forgiveness session. Every day since then is full of unravelling miracles. My perspective is shifting. I am a different person now.
Radical Forgiveness is a method used in psychology to heal. It is some kind of spiritual psychology, something I never knew existed. Sounded like something made up until I saw its work. I am watching changes in my life now. I lost interest in all that was rationalising my situation or kept me stuck. Things that upheld the narrative that was making it slightly easier to bear with discomfort. All these books on psychology, psychiatry, chemistry of the body – I no longer need that.
There is more. I am ten days into the worst time of the month for me. It is the time when I should turn into a screaming banshee PMDD-wise. Yet I have no symptoms. I am not taking any medication, there are no awareness exercises, not even yoga. I have nothing that would usually alleviate the symptoms. Is my PMDD really gone? Is it possible? Have I healed? The major difference between last month and now is that whatever the situation is that I enter, I ask myself first how I feel and what am I already bringing to the table. I am not letting anyone tell me what I think or feel. I own my truth. Is PMDD a disease of the soul? Or just another symptom of codependency?
My Radical Forgiveness therapist knew. Oh she knew miracles would happen. She asked if I need her for anything else, because if not, she could use some online feedback. Ohh, cheeky one, she knew it would work. We are spiritual beings after all. And she was in the room when it happened, she held me responsible to do my bit of shadow work before I could let it all go.
Asking myself for my own opinion, the way I take the reality in is much different than it was before. I observe things and judge them according to how they appear to me. Then I ask others for their opinions, but the decisions are still mine to make. I can open myself to many unexpected possibilities. I discovered that it was not my fault that someone close to me was hurting me. I could find some non-negotiable criteria for diagnosis of something I had little influence over. I feel grief, because underneath the whole craziness remains buried the person I met a year ago. The person that I loved.
I would love to think that my next spiritual adventure has to do with having a family. But there are many things to love about life. I met with an old friend for the Summer Solstice, one of those people that is just normal and has always been. The one that got enough of healthy love in his childhood and does not need any empty ego boosts. Wealth or position are not enough for him to accept corporate reality of being told what to do. Unless it is really something that makes him fly.
He spoke about his interests about strategic resources, Greek influence over Balcans, Russian conflict and in the end the Middle-Eastern politics, including the Palestinian case. He reminded me of a thing that I truly love, a thing that makes me light up. Journalism. Travelling. Writing. This is something I want to write about, it is about human lives.
Am I going to live it? I will certainly have an opportunity. I will go to Rishikesh, to Anadi Yoga School, just as I planned before the COVID. I am getting some chills from excitement about going there. Oh I will read about India beforehand. I will see if there is something I can write about.
I feel like crying. I feel like singing. Like dancing to the moon. I feel like I could run to the forest and scream and roll down with laughter. I feel very inspired to do everything I could dream of. And I dream of connecting with people, making them laugh, hearing them out, writing down their stories and passing them on.
Hey, I may have lost a man, that was kinda spiritually related. But I got my good friend back, the one that is irreplaceable, that even when we did not talk, I kept referring to and I badly missed her.
