I had a moment

I had a moment today.

I sat in my janked up car SOBBING in the parking lot of a restaurant called “Chicken Salad Chik” (who gets to come up with these names and how much do they get paid?) with my knees all bendy and snot running down my nose and tears coming out of my ears.

Thank GOD there was no one in the two cars parked next to me to witness this. I’ll be perusing social media later to ensure no one is making money off of my meltdown.

You see, I had just been TRIGGERED.

(I feel like the word itself is triggering, isn’t it?)

What does that even mean? To be “triggered”? Is it some politically correct way to say I JUST GOT HIT BY SHIT?

Because I just got hit by shit.

There’s moments in life when we get pulled into some memory, some energy that needs to be healed. For me, I hadn’t driven these roads in awhile, and some heartache bubbled up to the surface. Some unresolved feeling from some unresolved question. And I don’t do feelings. But today I did. I sat in my car, and I snot-cried and I felt whatever I needed to feel move through me.

 

It hurt. For a hot second. For a hot second I felt this ripple of unworthiness and jealousy and envy and not-good-enough and whywhywhy and can’t I get a freaking answer and confusion and distrust and old patterns… for a hot second these things coursed through my body. I let them. I let them pull me down and grab onto me and hold me and twist me and shatter me and come out of my nose in colors I don’t want to think about and I just let it happen. For one hot second.

And then, all of a sudden, I let go.

Surrender, darling.

 

I used to numb that. I used to hate feeling that so much that I’d seek out whatever I could to make it feel better. I was looking for momentary relief, not recognizing that in quelling my immediate pain I was investing in a lifetime of suffering.

I want what I want when I want it.

But what if “I want what I want when I want it” became “I have what I need already”?

I’m learning that this body is a vessel for my feelings. If I cover them up or hide them away, they linger, stuck, creeping inside me. If I allow them, let go, breathe into them, release them, they filter out like sunshine through a windowpane. And I’m whole again.

There’s a million different ways we can hold our experiences-in our bodies they can become pain, injury, fatigue, trauma. When we fail to recognize them and give them their space, they harbor resentments and stay trapped in our light. But if we allow ourselves to feel, we connect to a power greater than ourselves. We tap into the realness of what is. We flow.

Today I had a moment. Snot flowed out of my nose in the parking lot of a Chicken Salad Chik. I embraced the moment.

 I let it go.