Being with.

Not hiding from what I feel.
Letting it come. Flow through me.
Sit with it. Taste it, hear it, touch it, smell it.
Trying it on for size. Holding it in front of me, standing next to it, closing my eyes to sense into it.


Being with.
Not necessarily in.

Especially the parts that aren’t from now, but rather remnants of earlier experiences, incidents when I wasn’t fully capable of being with, so that it made an imprint that’s still there. Triggered by what happened now, the past now’s, that are not now, awaken, line up, ready to take their turn in the fight…

But what if there doesn’t have to be a fight?
What if no one is at fault, what if no one had any bad intentions, what if… it simply is what it is?

What if what’s there is valuable?
What if… it’s an invitation to the now’s of the past to step into the light, to be healed, soothed, like restless ghosts put to rest, reassured that all is well, you need not worry, guard, protect, carry on any more?
What if this is precisely the type of chafing I’ve been calling forth?
(it is.)

Giggling, I start to wonder if I should have rephrased that wish sent out into the universe.
Perhaps I should have been more careful with the wordings, asking for someone else to chafe against, might have called forth more that I was/am ready for?

What if I am more than ready for this?
What if the very essence of this is just that, me, speaking aloud what I experience, not shaming, not guilt-tripping, not asking for someone to take the blame or say they were in the wrong. Rather,  simply being with what is, letting it come forth, show itself, giving me –us– an opportunity to be with, to explore, experiment, stumble and fall, get back up and continue the dance.

Because that’s what it is.
A dance.
A dance with.