(dahlia, pansy, dianthus, heliotrope, wallflower, snapdragon, viola, scabiosa, peppermint, spearmint)
Ok, so I am here. Here is a place I hate to be. It’s a place of burn-out, of fatigue, of extreme sensory sensitivity. Traffic noises that did not bother me a year ago when we bought our beautiful home are now driving me crazy. I am completely burnt out with my job and know that needs to change. I have wild fears around that, as I barely manage and have no commute and my summers off.
This reminds me completely of an earlier time in my life, when I was also going through a different spiritual crisis that left me tortured by noise. And there was more noise, as we were living in apartments. We moved 4 times in 3 years, until finally I found some peace in a small rental house. I was also delving deep, doing intense therapy and drawing tarot cards, asking myself “why” I was so noise sensitive. Eventually it became clear: I sat down and wrote my parents a letter addressing all my unresolved issues with them. In addition, I also went back to a time in my life when I was an adolescent and in love with the family next door. They were a close, loving family, who were practicing Jehovah’s Witnesses. For a spiritual, love hungry junkie like me I was fixed, and over time I adopted their religion. When my parent’s found out many years later the sit hit the fan. I was forbidden to go next door and we moved within a year.
This was brought into my awareness by my then student husband who was taking a radio broadcast class and wanted to tell my story on the air. So I did. My husband narrated the piece, with live clips of me talking about my experience. We used pseudonyms. I was nervous, but it was very healing.
What happened with my parents and the letter was not so healing. My mother cried and ranted, although in the end said she loved me. My father pulled away from me completely, as I said some pretty damning things. This lasted for a few months, until I conceived my older son. My father loves his grandchildren almost more than his own. It was the bridge that brought us back together.
So what is the connection? What am I to gain from knowing that I felt compelled to tell this story of my past? For it rumbles within my present. What I went through before was something I called “soul work.” (A whole other story itself). I sense deep down I am being called to this again, to soul work.
I have been through this before, and know the gig. The only way out is through the shadows, into what is most challenging on a soul level. Now I know why the butterfly appeared 2 years ago; I am finally ready for metamorphosis.
I know I will need to find stillness within myself, which will involve hard choices. Not something I did so well back then, which is intimidating. But as my Shaman tells me, “You are stronger than you think.” I can only hope that in the act of reinventing myself, my senses calm.
Not sure what happens next, but I do know is this: I must continue to lie on the Earth, to allow her strength to both nourish and relive me. I have been doing this in the backyard, under a passion-flower vine. Although my back-yard is loud (quite a quandary for me, as this is where my garden is, and I am an Earth Keeper) that is where the sweet spot is. May I find peace soon :)
Diana Ray/April Aronoff
Photography By: Diana Ray