curiosity as a way to befriend fear

lunargirl27

Being sequestered at home recently I’m growing reacquainted with all kinds of things. Feelings, to be more specific. Un-fun, uncomfortable, irritatingly potent and yucky emotions. Let’s see. There’s anger (rage, to be more accurate, deep currents of it), sadness, grief, resentment, jealousy… there are more but at a certain point they start blending into each other. Aside from a physical element of restlessness, many of the most uncomfortable feelings have one thing in common: fear.

This seems to be one of my favorite things to write about. As widespread and prevalent as this emotion is right now, Covid-19 (or more accurately the way SO many things have changed SO fast because of Covid-19) has just amplified the fear I already live with. Interesting that fear is like a virus itself… Anyway, it’s totally exhausting and my nervous system is begging for some relief. So I want to find a different relationship to it. Because this agitation and anxiety that webs through me like connective tissue, makes me want to jump right out of my skin. (I do have to point out that I’m not getting enough exercise so that this may well be one part of the antidote).

This is where I’m going to call on one of my favorite poets, Rumi and his poem, “The Guest House” (can I just point out autocorrect wanted to make Rumi, “Ruminator”? That could be my alter ego…depression turned melancholy super-hero). I’m positive there’s been an endless stream of people who’ve written about Rumi and this particular poem, and at first this fact would cause me to stop right here, shut down the computer, and go back to reruns of Seinfeld. What do I possibly have to add to the conversation? But just to try something different…  here it goes. And isn’t exploring a quintessential experience of being human (like managing fear) a way we can connect with each other?

At the very least doing this right now is a way I can feel less alone.

Okay, here it is:

The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Jellaludin Rumi

 

As much as I want to jump in and share all kinds of thoughts, I’m going to leave you and the poem alone for now. If you happen to read this, and especially if you’ve never read it before, see what happens. You might read it once and totally forget about it. Or maybe you’ll skim it now and come back to it later. Maybe you’ll even remember a stanza or two when you happen to be sitting in the midst of a maelstrom of anxiety, panic, anger or severe depression. If it’s this last one, I won’t be offended if you also think, screw THAT girl… what the fuck does she know about how I feel? If it’s anger that comes up, let it come. Stay with it, breathe. Feel your feet on the floor, or your butt sitting in the chair, see where you thoughts go, what the anger feels like in your body… and keep coming back to your feet, your butt and your breath. If you choose to stay with it, whatever the emotion is, if you choose to notice it and not act on it, after the storm has passed see what it leaves in its wake.

And it’s totally okay if you’re still pissed with me.

 

 

Unknown's avatar

Published by lunargirl27

I am a writer and an artist, a teacher and a swing dancer (and a lover of all dancing); a woman who loves to dig in the dirt, talk to the flowers and sleep with the trees. I am an eternal student. Though I consider myself an introvert, my passion is finding true connection with others. I have lived with life-long chronic illness, and continue to struggle both with physical health issues, and bouts of depression and anxiety, sometimes debilitating. I am still reconciling my past with its effect on my present; learning to love the little girl who is still me, the one who carries our trauma. And I am finally, FINALLY, starting to know what loving myself actually feels like (less like an article in a self-help magazine, more like a loving expansiveness of self and a union with others. I don't like that description at all, but for now I'll let it be. This will kill my perfectionist). I'm here because I want to share my experience, strength, and hope. Not because I want to save or fix you, but because I hope you will see a reflection of your own strength and ability to heal in my words. The bad news is that no one will do this hard, at times painful, self-exploratory work for you. It's a humbling process. The good news is that you are capable of seeking help, and you deserve the love, support, and understanding that will help you heal. I acknowledge here, my privilege of having access to emotional support resources. I know I am one of the lucky ones. Though we cannot see each other, I know a little piece of you, just as you know a little piece of me. Our stories may be different, but we understand a shared pain. Though the specifics belong to each of us alone, our healing comes from also being able to see the similarities. This is how we break out of our isolation. And even if none of this helps you, maybe something here will lead you to a path that can offer you some hope and healing. Reach out anytime, I would love to hear from you.

Leave a comment