Since I got my new emotional superpowers, some seriously weird stuff has been happening.
As if it weren’t weird enough that I can now (well, mostly) feel my feelings without ducking for cover, even when they are Big and Scary, I had a massage the other day.
No, that’s not the weird bit.
It was actually quite nice. Massages are.
What was weird was how different my body was to a month ago, when I last saw my (fabulous) massage therapist. I tend to hold tension in predictable patterns. In my calves, my iliotibial bands, my quadriceps muscles, my psoas muscles (which are usually so tight that my therapist breaks a sweat trying to release them. I kid you not) and in my biceps and pectorals. If you have not idea what I am on about, bear with me, the muscle names aren’t central to the story.
Anyhoooo. I am usually tense in the belly of my muscles. Right in the middle. But this time, every single muscle was loose in the belly, and the only tension was at the point where muscle inserts to bone. This is weird. Weirder still, my psoas muscles? Not tense at all. This, friends, is nothing short of downright freaky.
My massage therapist got more and more puzzled through the session, and eventually asked me what I had been doing differently.
Well, I said, I have been writing a lot more.
And I’ve been doing a lot of work on releasing my old patterns.
It’s almost like there’s nowhere else for the tension to go now. It’s retreated to the very ends of my muscles. Now the only way is out!
So there’s that.
Then there’s the whole not-needing-as-much-yoga thing. I can’t tell you how weird that is. I am still practising every day (well, except for that one day when I had a nap) but just because I can, and because I enjoy it. Not because I need to in order to be a normal human being, which was the previous status quo. Odd.
And then there’s the Void.
Yup. A big ole empty nothingness where all my hangups, insecurities, self-delusions and general crap around relationships used to be. These things used to form the basis of my romantic relationships and now that they are gone, I feel kind of bereft.
In their place? Nothing. You see, it transpires that I have absolutely no idea what I really want from a relationship. Nor do I really think that if I figured it out, I could find it. Probably because I don’t know what I am looking for.
I mean, obviously I know some stuff: I’d like a man who is kind, financially responsible, has a nice normal relationship with his mother. That kind of thing. But the energy and flow and balance of the relationship? Never given it any thought. Till now.
So here’s the weirdest bit of this story: I feel like I need to stay here in the Void, in the emptiness, and really get to know it. Because if I try to move out too fast, I won’t have seen all there is to see.
I still won’t know what I want.
It’s part of the process. To be comfortable being empty, for (gasp) an undefined time. To be willing to wait until I know what the right questions are.
Hello, Void. Let’s be friends.
Do you have any Void-like friends? Have they helped you?