Beautiful Video on Being Who You Are

Tired of living a divided life? This video is beautiful, educational and affirming. I especially appreciate the perspective he shares, as a man in his 70’s, of what makes life seem sad or vibrant as one reviews choices.

http://www.onbeing.org/blog/living-an-undivided-life/6254

My dividedness came in being able to “pass” as someone who did not have PTSD for many years. He talks about the “divided life,” reaching a point, for many people, where staying divided is more painful than hiding. For me, claiming all of myself became a vital midlife urge and need.

It’s no coincidence that I wasn’t able to dive into my writing and commit to it until I was also willing to say, “Yes, trauma still impacts my daily life.” It’s hard to write memoir when there are zones of truth that are off-limits. Good writing is naked and honest. It’s hard to write cohesive essays when constantly trying to leave out entire paragraphs and chapters of formative life.

But it’s more than that.

It’s impossible to create a lifestyle which balances parenting, the bills, friendships, love, work and cleaning the house without acknowledging my strength and vulnerability.

I don’t get hangovers from drinking too much or lose time to black outs because I’ve chugged shots or have soaked my sorrows in booze. But when I’m agitated or frightened,  I have nightmares that wake and terrify and haunt me for a day. I call these nightmare hangovers and they throw me off center. When I’m in that space my own brain feels like both the bunker where I’m hiding as well as the enemy that could launch a missile that blows up my day, making me even more afraid.

It’s hard to stay present to conversation, to see the luminous beauty of a bush blooming and shimmering in the morning light while also taking internal cover and trying to feel safe. On days like those, I feel divided still.

While I have learned what helps me reclaim my center, it’s not always convenient to get myself to the page, yoga or a guided imagery class where I can slow my breathing, remind myself I’m safe even though I don’t feel it. I might seem high maintenance for all the alone time or need or for how long it takes me to restore equilibrium and I used to worry about that a lot more than I do now.

But still, do I wish I didn’t have to spend so much time taming or nurturing my nervous system? I do. Have I pushed myself to the brink trying to just power through, buckle down and function while terrified? Yup. But that’s a joy-free way of life. I refuse to do it any longer. I just refuse.

And this is the beauty of mid-life self-reckoning. This is where I no longer beat the hell out of myself for being who and HOW I am but for saying, “This. This is me. If that’s not something you can deal with, o.k.” I’m done apologizing or trying to force or fake or will away reality.

The relief is palpable. But so is the sorrow.

Letting go of relationships and illusions and dreams is required. Owning up to my own choices and mistakes and realizing I’m the only one who can create the life that works best for me. More on that in future posts.

But for today, I take heart in being at ease and at center in an undivided heart. My logo is a heart with a question mark in it because I don’t have answers to everything. But my heart is open. And that, for now and maybe forever, even with all of the questions I carry, is triumph enough.