Vulnerability. It's scary. How can I be vulnerable when I've been trying to cover that up for so long? The truth is, I am vulnerable. I am a human experiencing life, with all its ups and downs, and it affects me. Phew, it's out. You now know that I'm not Superwoman. Now I can move on. I can allow myself to feel, I can find resources to work with those feelings, and I can grow.
These last few months, maybe my whole life, I've been collecting resources to help me through this. The biggest one I've found is in relationships. As Hector and I have created more and more space between us, it's allowed me to find intimacy in new ways. So often I would have tried to find intimacy in a romantic relationship. I yoked emotional intimacy in with romantic intimacy. When a relationship would end, I would feel emotionally betrayed, forsaken even. In the last few months I have been fortunate enough to be a part of women's circles. These gatherings, unlike so many meetings and workshops (which I also love), have no agenda, no set goals to achieve. Instead, they're organically designed for us to simply support and share with each other. Luckily, this energy is not limited to these circles.
I can't do this alone. By "this", I mean life. I'm learning how important relationships really are to me. At the same time, I didn't move hundreds of miles away from those closest to me for nothing. This is where my garden comes in. I'm learning to get to know my internal landscape. All those buttons my loved ones know how to push are still alive within me. Interacting with others allowed me to see things on a grander scale. As I step away from the human triggers, I see that I perpetuate the same patterns within my own mind, emotions, and habits. That frustration at my own untidiness, forgetfulness, or whatever. That's still happening. Though someone else might have planted the seeds long ago, I have been watering these weeds for far too long.
Weeds are tricky. They often leave roots or drop seeds, and will simply come back again. In Permaculture we learned to read them. Yellow dock grows where the soil is very moist, thistle where it's been disturbed. Each weed grows there for a reason. Part of my process involves being a counselor-detective. Why did this weed grow in the first place? Where is this behavior coming from? Weed whacking isn't going to help here. I need to bring that energy of the women's circle, full of its support and desire to help, into this yard, into myself. With that gentle, patient, insistent love, I can work with my garden in a way that is more harmonious and in tune with who I am. After all, I'm really looking to integrate all the parts of myself- the parts that get frustrated and the parts that just want to leave the dirty dishes in the sink.
Now I'm taking stock, and I'm taking note of all my resources. I know what tools I have, and what folks I can reach out to for help. Part of me wants to mow down the whole garden and start from scratch, but I know the weeds will be the first things to come back. Instead, I'll keep the vision, and work a small section at a time. Most importantly, I'll remember to step back every once in a while to take it all in- the weeds, the flowers, and everything in between.