Really! Yes, really!
I kid you not. I called off the divorce.
A wise man and woman were called at the crack of dawn by my meddling sister. The concern is me. The next of concern are my children ages 6 and 8. They sat me down. No words were minced.
Speaking of me, my nervous system has been jangled. And it’s not about my dead dad.
I study craniosacral therapy. By everyday terms I am an excellent therapist. Despite my inner demons, clients still think I’m magic. But by my own standards, I suck. Within the scene I’ve created, there are opposing forces within my being. What I mean is--a little background. Our bodies are largely water. You know the latest by Masaru Emoto, Messages From Water. Love makes these neat crystalline shapes, negativity makes a murky mess. Same with our bodies. Stress and trauma create a denser fluid body. The charge gets held since there’s no safety to discharge it.
I wouldn’t think much of it except my own body has densified over the past two months. I’m jangled as hell and I can’t hear more than two words of what you’re saying. I know your lips are moving. Coincidentally, these unusual changes inside are just as I’ve prepared to leave Will.
The universe is within each of us. We’re mostly too stressed and traumatized to grock that. Most of us don’t sense our own feet, seat or skin. There’s a place near the ceiling we hang out. The work I do settles all that. Brings the presence into our cells. Lets the trauma unravel,. Like a shook up pop bottle we don’t want to explode. Just let off a little fizz at a time. Gently. There on my table.
But as I said, who needs trauma work from a tightly wrapped goddess? I’m going for the best I can be. The best parent I can be. The best damn craniosacral therapist in all of Portland, Oregon. And my spine has to be aligned to do that.
So damn straight, don’t mess with me. The divorce is called off. My kids will have a shot at a good life. I’m playing with Will again. I’m his.