All of these poisonous snakes creeping out of my waters with the weight of wet tree trunks. Some go unseen but others I notice and ask them where they come from; their hissing reply always cruelly the same: “We are you, we are you,”
In defiance I strangle them angrily, painfully.
When I awake, hungover with emotion, I scan a reptile-absent horizon and to my horror I find my own hands wringing my neck, “It was not me, it was not me,” I cry softly to myself.
I swear, half the reason I don’t write is because I reflect all day long. I think all day and I don’t stop. When it comes to expression, it almost seems exhausting. Although considering that statement, I actually think of myself as quite the expressive person. Frequently I interact with people and share myself openly, and in that way I feel as if I have expressed.
However I am aware of the magic and intimacy held in personal writings, this, an example of the very concept: I am currently tingling with a feeling of ease, the one with which I can type and feel encouraged by the satisfaction of tangibly placing my thoughts. My brain and body fuzzes the edges of these tingles, blending a sensation of indescribable oneness. It is a phenomenon experienced often by writers and artists, but I shall not discriminate here because I truly feel as if everyone is capable of this feeling.
Now when I say oneness, I don’t mean it solely in a spiritual manner. Instead I would call it self-awareness. Not just self-awareness of our conscious tendencies, but the determination to seek awareness of our subconscious.
Why do you constantly wake up drowning in a pool of anxiety every morning? How come I am never good enough for myself? Where are all these conditioned pathways coming from?
It is endless and everyone’s experience is valid and individual.
I intentionally share my thoughts with you but please let me stress this: I am on my own journey apart from others and in no way should my reflections be taken as factual. I have an intense interest in psychological and anthropological realms, and so I hope to prompt some thought.
I do believe that a lot of our subconscious tension and trauma comes from childhood conditioning. We are not only conditioned in a societal sense, we are also naturally conditioned from our upbringing. Fortunately for some that environment is generally healthy with only the usual family dysfunctions. However for others it is a traumatic, unsettling introduction to the world; rather than an unfolding of beauty and synchronicity as it has the potential to be (in my opinion).
I don’t want to make this a long, drawn out rant about how you can heal your anxiety by attending to childhood trauma……………but wait. Holy crap, that sounds pretty damn good, right?! So if you feel inspired: connect with your inner child, acknowledge the trauma cards dealt, and watch that anxiety lift – at least for a minute or two.