Playing with fire

The dark passenger is back. The persistent backseat driver has moved to the front seat, tired of whispering in my ear, of looking over my shoulder while I ignore her. She is right here with me now, taunting me, tempting me.

I am playing with fire, flirting with darkness. I know that. But so far, I am in control. Or am I? How do ever truly I know whether I do something because I want to, or want to do it because it lessens that constant, nagging anxiety? And I am aware of my addiction to this, to these things. I know I will want more, I know how quickly it can reach a level of almost obsessive-compulsiveness, I know all of this.

And yet, I'm playing with fire. Telling myself that this time is different. This time I will remain in control. Maybe I'll prove myself right, maybe I won't. At this point, I don't know. Will it escalate or stop? Will I escalate or stop? But I will not cut my arms open, no matter how much I may want to, in the spur of the moment. That would just be too hard to hide. So I remain in control.

How did it start, again? Gradually sinking lower into depression, and then, mounting anxiety, even panic attacks. As I realised that I am not entirely depressed, that I could see much clearer what was me and what was, is, the illness, the depression, it was as if it changed. Granted, I am still depressed, suffering from painfully low self esteem, lack of initiative, lack of energy; I have lost my appetite, I cry easily, and I want to harm myself – but at the same time, I am happy and positive. Being able to see (feel) this means that I am not the depression, I am not the anxiety. I suffer from depression and anxiety, but it is not who I am.

Unfortunately, the panic attacks, being all tensed up and struggling to catch my breath, is pretty draining. And it affects my dance. I hate it, but am realising that I don't let it control my life; I try to lead a normalish life. I go out, I meet people, I work. When I take on my professional role, no one will ever notice what's going on. My friends, my Sisters, they see more. They feel me vibrating, physically, emotionally, mentally. But this is my transformation to go through, the fragile shell I feel around me is what remains of my walls, and because it is so thin, I have to protect myself. I don't let many people in. I can't. I won't. But every breath I take is a victory, every morning I wake up stronger, closer to breaking through the shell and spreading my wings in freedom, beauty and power.

I just pray that things don't go too far before then, and that the breakthrough isn't a breakdown. I am worried, and a bit afraid. Because I do want to harm myself – not seriously, just a little. And I have lost a bit of weight because of having no appetite and sometimes being too tired to force myself to eat, and even though I doubt I've lost that much, I am afraid that I might cross a line when I step through the mirror. I already have more thoughts of consciously making myself lose more weight, dieting, using these diet supplements. I register those thoughts, but I don't act on them. I just find myself reading the labels, comparing the nutritional contents, checking prices. It's a good thing they are expensive and I am way too smart to fool myself. I don't need to lose weight and I have no intention of doing so. Part of me wants to, but I won't.

Even so, I know that if I keep losing weight, it will be harder to resist as the dark passenger grows louder and stronger. So I pray that I will get an psych appointment soon and that I will keep making myself eat. More. I am not going back into the mirror! I am not making that particular journey again.

I know it's stupid of me to play with fire, but really, I don't know how not to. Even with the panic attacks that make me in a way worse off than I've ever been, and the incredible fatigue, depression etc, things are a million, billion, zillion times better that they used to be. I will get through this.

Who will heal the healer?

From fulfilment to emptiness, from bliss to loneliness, from a feeling of being in the flow to a feeling of being set apart, removed. Every time.

This has been a strange week, or little-more-than-a-week. Spiritually speaking, a gateopener, or maybe rather a floodgateopener. I felt called to do work with Goddess, to channel Her light and energy, Her healing, and without having to think about it, did. And it's easy, effortless. Because I am just a vessel, a conduit, it doesn't drain me at all, as long as I keep my intention clear and unmarred by ego. And I do. And it's the most amazing thing, realising how easy it is to rise above ego and to, well, Priestess, embody, channel, whatever you want to call it. It is not for my sake or my gain, which makes the channel crystal clear. Beautiful, amazing work, and I am deeply humbled and honoured to be called to do it.

And it is opening up an interesting channel of communication, crystal clear: eye to eye, mind to mind, spirit to spirit, heart to heart. So clear that it is almos painful in its beauty, even though it isn't all open yet. But it will be. An immense gift!

What has been draining is the protection and shielding I was also, and pretty acutely, called to do for myself and others. Unexpected and quite shocking. But that, too, was a learning experience; the challenge of doing it with grace and love instead of holding up a shielding mirror to send back. (That part is not up to me.) The challenge of speaking my truth as softly as I can, knowing that it would hurt. The clarity of working with Goddess spreads across many facets of my life, and reveals the truth. Which isn't always pleasant, for anyone. The trick is to always do it from a place of love.

And meanwhile, there is my own journey. A most clearsighted Sister gave me the final clue this week in shining a light on what I knew but had failed to really feel. Pieces falling into place, leading to a major breakthrough when I suddenly knew exactly what to do. There is still a process of healing, further breaking through, and empowerment to go through, but it is well under way.

This week-or-so has reminded me of the work I am called here to do, and the immense joy of doing it. The sense of everything being right – in the flow, in my body, aligned with Spirit and Goddess, serving Her by shining Her light, like I once asked and promised to do – and a feeling of a door opening. I need more of this. Not for me as much as for the fact this is who I am and what I am called to do. Denying it would only stunt me.

But… Coming down is still as hard as when I travelled back and forth to Glastonbury and my training circle, gradually learning to hold Goddess's energy for longer times at a stretch and then landing in the mundanity of my normal life in Sweden. It always left me feeling very small, empty, and lonely. And it still does. I'm still struggling with how to sustain this spark, this light within in the everyday. Is that even possible? Or desired? I know that it shines a light on the dark, wounded spots that need to be brought into the light for healing, and even though that aspect of this path is painful, I embrace it. But the feeling of being set apart is hard; having essentially no one with whom to share this leaves me very lonely.

In a sense, this is how it is supposed to be: I come into my power alone, I am mostly a solitary practitioner, and the way in which The Lady of Avalon claimed me for Her and initiated me was in a very lonely setting. In complete solitude, entirely surrendering to Her.

But it's still hard, as no one here knows Avalon, knows the language I speak. These are the times when I miss being in a Circle of Sisters (and Brothers) and sharing. I miss people who know, who won't look to me for guidance or answers, but who listen and already know the nature of the path. A place where I can just receive, where I can be healed and held. It will come, and in the meantime I am held by the Great Mother, and my darling Sisters, wonderful weavers of the web of Sisterhood. But it is the constant question, isn't it: Who will heal the healer?

In the Cauldron

Yes, so it seems. I'm in the Cauldron already. Or again. But I have a feeling that I haven't left it in these… almost four years since I started the Priestess training. It appears my path is to walk with the Dark Mother. So bring it on.

Bring it on, Keridwen, Dark Mother, Crone Mother. 

Bring on Your bubbling cauldron, may You stir it gently.

Bring Your wisdom and Your change, a thousand little deaths before transformative rebirth.

Bring on the darkness and the cold.

Bring on the chilly northern winds in the middle of the night,

left alone on the highest mountain.

Bring on the dampness of Your cave,

where the sow roots in the earth, 

digging up hidden treasures and the things that have lain hidden for too long.

Bring your bats, dark-winged companions of the night.

Remind me that You are there beside me every step of the way,

gently holding me in the darkness.

And I will take your hand and step into the cauldron.

©Lisa Isaksson, October 2010