Shifting Slowly

It’s odd, this feeling of shifting. It really is slow, however, it’s meant to be. It’s meant to be slow because you need to feel it. You need to feel the change happen in order to fully grasp it and to say to yourself; this is what it feels like to let go. To take the thought and not transform it or “think of something else” but to actually LET. IT. GO.  To look at yourself, to the person you were just yesterday and say, I am not that person any longer. If I am not the person I was yesterday then I am definitely not the person I was a year or definitely, 2 years ago.

About a week ago I had this overwhelming feeling of emotion come over me.  A year ago, even two, I was completely unable to have this type of mood come over me without feeling like I needed to just sit in a ball on the couch and not do anything. Or to go completely crazy and have to be busy at every second so I wouldn’t have to feel it. It was terrible. Just a terrible, terrible feeling and I never, ever thought I’d be where I am now.

Which is, able to have those moods, and still survive. To completely lean into the mood, into my emotion and not read into it. To just be. And to know that I was going to be ok. That eventually, the mood would lift but in order for that to happen, I had to accept the mood I was in, not psychoanalyze it and just let whatever I was feeling, happen. No matter what.

I had the feeling to just cry.  I needed to cry. I needed to just let myself fall into a good cry but I wouldn’t let myself in front of my daughter.  So instead I got her ready for school, dropped her off, got back into my car and decided I needed a walk. On my walk, I cried. The minute I got out of the car I just cried and cried. For what? I don’t know but I didn’t need a reason to cry. That’s the thing. I was brought up to not show emotion, that crying was weak or guilt. So whenever I felt like crying I just made myself think I was weak or guilty of something. And most likely the “guilt” was taught to me by some religious leader. It was most likely something NOT to feel guilty about.  So I didn’t cry often.  And then if I did cry, I attached it to depression and anxiety. Because I made myself believe that anyone that couldn’t express themselves “correctly”; meaning, with words, vocally and instead chose to cry, was depressed.  Goodness, gracious, the shit I believed in.

On this walk though, I cried. I did exactly what my body and heart told me I needed to do. And let me tell you, WHAT A RELEASE! It was my way of shedding another layer of myself. It was healing. I was releasing myself of all the false beliefs I had believed in for years.  And after I cried, I got back in my car, came home, and went about my day.  I didn’t freak out, thinking, “oh dear, here I go, falling into another depression.”  Or, “great, lets link this cry to something. What did I do? What didn’t I do?”  I just went on. I moved on. I cried, let go of my emotions, released it to the universe and healed and moved on.

It was fantastic!  And so I encourage it.  I encourage a good cry. A good, ugly face, hiccupping, cry without any strings attached.  To release yourself of anything you are holding in your heart. To heal your heart. Your soul. To grow.

Cry it out.