Cosmic power's drumming

There are so many places to hide that I don't wish to let myself out the door,

Locked in the twisted pathways of the tunnel, in and out of many pit stops there, as if a lure.

I felt the world outside the door to be too real,

And looking for my shadow in the darkness, a cold appeal.

I stepped out to prove many a point,

That I am no ghost and as painfully alive as a disconnected joint.

The single step to embrace my truths and everyday realities was not an exercise in emotional numbing,

But a journey of a thousand miles, an echo towards the future, and a call to heed to the cosmic power's drumming.

Don't be in hiding with your imaginations

 To feel real in my head, in my thoughts, in my day dreaming is alright. By imaging, fantasizing, I do not become weak. I just have a rich imaginative inner world and it's been a companion for filling up my thoughts and I had gotten so compulsive about staying in it that what could have been my strength in terms of expressing through imaginations and dreams on writing, through coloring, singing, and so many other creative pursuits became a suppressed way of "normalizing" my sensitivities, my physical health included. It's completely alright. As I think in hindsight, it was a placebo that became my comfort zone, my distracting space for lack of emotional regulation for frequent health sensitivities.

In fact my lack of accessing my emotions was the core reason for falling sick often. It's like making myself unavailable for my feelings, for what they wish to truly express, and what do my emotions want me to hear were all thrown out of the window as I kept looking for the door to be visible so that I can get out of this comfort zone.

Since my mother emotionally neglected me, I did the same with myself, and could not come out to express and ask anyone else for support as I was so loyally bound to her trauma and it didn't occur to me that I had and have the choice to seek support for some empathy and understanding from others. I felt like an emotional orphan growing in a physical body which is not letting go her mother's trauma for fear of coping up with anything new other than the trauma I had been already exposed to. 

When her trauma became my reality and when my sensitivity seemed a lot to take for me, I just shut myself down and the more I acted out in my imaginations and fantasies, the more I felt seen, atleast by me. It provided as the best accomplice for trying to stay invisible in a huge, emotionally chaotic family. 

Nothing is more real than my imaginations and the more that I started to live through them, the more I felt that I had a routine. It still is my routine and I do dislike switching back to actual reality to focus, but I think it's best if I learn to use my inherent imaginations and put it to good use through some form of creative outlet. And so expressing my imaginations will not be defense shield from trauma but a seamless outlet to self acceptance from within and out.

I never thought of imagination as a bridge between two worlds, but it sure seems like a beautiful way to bring myself together to offer the world my slice and view of life without trying to shy away, shrink or devalue myself for what comes out in offering through writing most likely, but there can be more to creativity than just one form of expression.

Self acceptance

Self acceptance is the real key, 

Don't go seeking approval from one branch to another, as you need to discern the forest from the tree. 

You stand out tall and authentic from the rest for who you are, 

It's clear, your stance on your life, even from afar. 

Don't stay stuck on how others see you and chop your self expression to half, 

You are not the herd, you can sometimes choose to follow, just like the trusting calf. 

Stay in your own line while allowing for others to pass, 

Don't stand too long as you need to move on and be your own kind of class.

Daily self love

It's a lot of tears for a love hardened so dry,

Nothing to gain but everything to lose if I don't grieve or cry.

Just how much suppression is enough to be all good for others?

Like a pile of sticks, stones, and dried leaves that wrap up my inner shell, my loneliness, in dusty feathers.

To embrace my true self now is to come clean with all the hidden pain,

And let it sweep the old for the new, nothing to lose, but a life put together to gain.

I had given up on hope and courage and faith on a power higher than my fears,

It took me decades to accept that I am sensitive but not kind to myself, a truth that shifted my life's gears.

Letting go all my inner criticism, an echo of my mother's projections, a long standing wound,

To heal is feeling fearful sometimes as the criticisms will stop to hound.

Self love is not trying to be good enough for anyone except you,

A mindful habit to hold your brokenness together and show some daily love and not just out of the blue.

 

Self expression, a decision

Give something that you love but don't have time for, a try,

It's better to know how things might fail rather than play safe and say goodbye.

The lost opportunities hurt the most, not the number of victories won,

To let go expecting things to turn out perfect is real and not something to shun.

So, keep up the efforts, keep up the spirit to express your life,

What you decide and how you keep up with it is a path to befriend and not block with strife.

Fight for yourself and stand up for what you believe and value,

Nothing is a waste, everything happens for a reason as you put aside self devalue.

Safety Pins

 The kid hidden in the dim space in the garage was looking for safety -  safety from her outer world, controlling voices, and expectations to having to fit in to her family. All these didn't feel safe. At all. It was safe when she could hear her emotions but that felt like searching for a safety pin in the dim garage - there but not visible, can be felt but hidden somewhere, and just another dusted under the carpet.

Trusting herself because of not being in touch with her emotions felt like she was a stranger to her world, her mind, her desires, her goals and just plain disconnected with her truths. Her emotions were the needle in the haystack for sure and something that could hold her together, no matter how varied her emotions, in oneness with her life.

Compassion without self love is a garment that's loose all over the edges and simply won't fit the person. Mindful compassion is made to fit and creates the flow and the shape that is distinct to the person's psyche. All along the kid grew in dresses bigger than her fit and assumed that that was enough as long as it didn't restrict her movements. Little did she know that bigger sizes didn't make her more mature and that she can't fit in with other people's expectations for being something or someone to them, even if she tries to stretch farther than what's truly comfortable to her in order to wear what others want as if it were her own.

She understood gradually that the attitude she chose to embody was her authentic fit and that it can change from time to time. What's not her or hers she would be shed anyway. 

Her life lessons were like the colorful pins that come in varied sizes and shapes which don't limit the garment in any way, but help create a distinct flow and pattern in a seamless way.

Life is a trial room and not a dim garage space to hide your real self. You can always know how you respond to your emotions when you listen to them, see them, and wear them if you feel they are true to you. Don't shrink yourself in order to fit in with others emotional manipulations and control and don't settle for others exaggerated emotional dramas which come off your shoulders like rags -  when it's not yours to wear, no matter how loose the fit, don't try to snuggle your way in to fake assure yourself that it's all okay.

Embrace your whole personality - your body, your mind, your emotions and your expectations, everything put together as one because they all come together for your one and only one lifetime as of today. 

Vel Maaral - an individual perspective

 Vel Maaral has been my saviour in more ways than one. It has been the knowledge tool that has kept me protected in the dark of ignorance, pain, distress, and blocks. The Vel or the spear is known to be the breaker of barriers, be it psychological, physical, or any other level possible. So, it's safe to say in short that my life is an answered prayer even if my mind creates doubts, anxiety, fear and so on.

My soul has been placated like how a cranky kid's nerves are calmed down, and that's how I feel when I read it and each day feels like a new interpretation of revelations close to my life.

So, it's not just a loop of Tamizh mantras, but a medicine that cuts through the thick of layers that live entwined within us, and Vel Maaral liberates us from the karmic imprints as we absorb its essence in depth over a period of time. The Vel is the object and the essence in it all that has many functions depending upon the nature of inner demons - it can find its way through to the root of evil within us and bind us to faith and not fear, freeing us thereby to stay afloat and not sink under the weight of our unconsciousness.

The repeat nature of our everyday thoughts, imaginations, assumptions, and external influences makes it look as if we are caught in the web of the mind as it spins so many stories around our life experiences. But to weave a narrative which is free off the stickiness of past programming is a step in the right direction as our lives are woven in the direction that we project today. And I have at many a time looked at external sources of help to help reconcile my past with the present reality and my tendency to stay lost adds challenges of its own. But Vel Maaral has been the awareness creator as it helps me become aware of how far I stray(staying distracted) away from my current situation and how much are my fantasies and day dreaming feeding off off my straying in one topic of interest or another.

So, the focus is not to artificially create a velcro sticky faith to stay stuck on Lord Muruga or his weapon, Vel, but to detach myself from the loops of patterns which don't serve me any good today.

The enemy for me is not some strange looking person or thing on the outside, but the foggy, mystical, fantasizing, free flow of imaginations of my mind which is centered on projecting myself as a strong individual who is almost always trying to be right in her dialogues with others. An inner critic who is strong and simply unrelenting in the many forms it takes up in my mind as if to emphasize my mother's umpteen versions of her disappointments and criticisms on my health no matter how many doctors or how much care she thinks she gave - I could not shut her down then, but through these imaginations and my having the last say in each of those dialogues with her or with others, it's like I am finally getting to do that, but the damage is only on me, through me, like a self inflicting injury to cover the deeper wound within. 

I am yet to put to action the reparenting towards gentle self love that I so need to do, but my inner critic is so stuck on proving others wrong that I have truly negated my self growth even if I am painfully aware of the severely limiting aspect of adapting my beautiful, creative imaginations to the loops of criticisms, be it projecting on others or on myself.

It's almost like a judgement, all this inner chatter every day, and drains me off my life energy. I am thankful though for the Vel Maaral has made me straighten my mind out atleast this much with discretion and awareness of my own mind for now because I am not as alone and lost as I used to think I was. 

I can choose to better use my imagination and that is to create a new and maybe better reality. 

Imagination, intuition, perception, and sensing, deep conversations are all me (my inner strengths) for all along, but since I had so much of my repressed emotions and unexpressed feelings, and walking on egg shells in an emotionally dysfunctional family dominate my reality and my sense of self so much that I could not use my inner strengths in a way that would help manifest my external reality and be authentic to it to the fullest. The goal to be my actualized true self is something that's manifesting gradually as the supportive and assuring Vel Maaral is the weapon that breaks through and slays even invisible enemies as they surface to my reality and makes me better aware of the extent of my distress and helps to release them slowly and be in sync with the now.

 

A new core, a new shore

 All along I have lived like a deer in the headlights losing sight of my self priorities. It's a lot of confusion for who I was because I was made to feel guilty for who I was by my mother for whatever sensitivity I had in health as her frustrations, her fears over my health were superimposed by her and so I found myself constantly caught in the loop to appease her at the cost of prioritizing myself. My emotional sensitivity is something I was myself in the dark and the truth of that crept up making it impossible for me to ignore my emotions and feelings which was at a much later stage. But still, the knowing that I was made to feel a certain way about myself and the painful realization that I had chosen to disconnect from myself in order to stay blindly tuned to my mother's expectations was self sabotaging to say the least.

Now I don't go out of my way to be flexible for her. I just try not to get too rigid either in my stubbornness about embracing real change within me. Just giving in to her "love" a bit no matter how much of a bait she uses her love and care for me as, but she does that to wield her control over me as she is used to controlling me either through her frustrated yet helpless way of caretaking me as if I am a terminally ill patient back then. She made me believe that I am too weak and that affected my sense of self a lot. 

My will to want to fight back, to take a stand for myself, to take responsibility for my physical and mental health were all so limited by my mother's way of seeing me and that was me, the deer, getting blinded by the projected headlights of an external source, my mother, as I lost sight of my goals, my visions for my life and what lies ahead.

Life does not happen when you stay stuck in the comfort of who you think you were (no matter how weak, negative, ill willed it might be) but in the discomfort of who you want to become (as opposed to the expectations of others if needed) being fully centered on your true wants and needs.

I have been a survivor living off my mother's projected toxic love for me and wanted to assume that that's really true and good for me, but it isn't. She has steadily dampened my fire for exercising my will and I was so caught up seeking validation from her that I repeatedly self doubted myself and exercised limitations mindset on myself that I can easily adapt to and created ill will within myself for who I am and kept being in a confused space for who I wanted to be.

Her trauma of losing my father during her pregnancy seeded trauma in her womb and deep within me and I birthed trauma at each and every stage of my life being fearful, overwhelmed, confused for who I am and thereby numbed myself so much so that I stay sunk in deep unconsciousness of my self.

Her image of a sympathy gained from others victor (at the cost of projecting a negative image of her daughter) is who she has always been, and making me feel responsible for her state, whether physical or emotional, is who she maintains herself to  be. And to that effect, no matter how much is done feels not enough, specially when she steps out and it becomes mandatory to look out for her comfort at each and every step of the way which is exhausting to say the least.

My creativity feels stifled as my inner thoughts circle around the times of the past and the present which hovers around my mother and how much I have been taken for a ride.

Life is a journey but when you become other people's ride, then you need to get back to being driven so that you can take charge of your travel and your experiences fully.

I am tired of being other people's ride and I am not so altruistic as well, but just made to feel guilty constantly and hence had given in to prioritizing others, courtesy my conditioning embedded deeply by my mother's behaviors as mentioned above. And so I became a dumped site, thanks to few friends who assumed that my space, my calm is something that they can exploit and just validated for my being all so idealistic and giving and generous with my listening and time as I too let them believe and was never being true to myself while being with them. I thought I had to stretch in terms of empathy and understanding and that was energetically draining which I didn't realize back then but kept giving away my power, my space to accommodate others.

My heart flutters like tender wings,

And gets stuck in the pull of weighing down things.

It had to find its strength, the flaps continued to beat against odds,

To open my trust in believing myself and not stay enmeshed in others lives like peas in a pod.

Strength is when you stop saying you are weak,

But give yourself reason to trust that life ahead is not so bleak.

Wings without ascension is not freedom,

It's being authentic without fanning the fires in the belly out of boredom.

Mother wound was my cocoon and my comfort nest,

Walking on egg shells to not anger or sadden my mother, a daily test.

This is emotional abuse, I was not aware,

Didn't call out my mother out of shame, guilt and confrontational fear.

 I revisit this wound scratching the inner surface which isn't my core,

The need to let go the old and connect to my flow is releasing my hardened heart from the mossy shore.

Cutting loose from the compulsion to go round and round without finding a way out is a clear sign,

That the footprints don't follow you as much as you ruminate or whine.

The memories of feeling isolated and abandoned without support haunts me in silence,

I find comfort in the truths of my soul which speak softly to assure deep guidance.

My soul reminds me to speak to the repressed voices within,

To accept plainly their pain, their unspoken fears, sadness and anger without triggered spins.

To believe that I deserve calm and love and support is entry into my core,

The silence after this storm held me in its arms as I paddle my way to a new shore.