I choose to live.

Up until recently I thought I was alive.

Living deeply.

It was a lie waiting to be unwrapped. A fraudulent gift from the universe delivered in the form of relationships and circumstances.

My life so far has been mostly half lived, unbeknown to me.

I thought I was rocking this life thing.

I am in the infamous midlife transit where everything that I have constructed, orchestrated and polished over the past 41 years awaits collapse.

My heart is currently on the firing line of this monumental transition as I journey deeply into love and relationship. And fuck it hurts like hell as the vault of wounds that have been lurking in the cellar of my unconscious awaken like corpses.

What is emerging during this Hiroshima of the heart is the realisation that I have spent most of my life armoured and in a self-protection program. I have spent a good forty years calcifying my unconscious wounds and managing my life to mostly avoid touching upon them.

Have you ever found yourself in a relationship that seems to emulate childhood wounds of abandonment, rejection or hurt? It is no coincidence that the closest people to you trigger your greatest fears.

I have often heard the reflection “the very thing that hurts me the most is happening to me”.

Love illuminates everything that isn’t love; it stirs up the muck down in your emotional basement. We project these disturbances onto people, partners and those close to us but this is not an intervention by mere people. This is the reversing of your own protection program as the universe attempts to de-amour your heart and de-robe the layers of sheathing you have so carefully arranged against potential pain and suffering.

Most of us do not realise that we have ordered our lives to bypass feelings of fear, insecurity or pain. We have chosen paths, people and situations that replicate a sense of control and comfort and when life inevitably challenges this we resist vehemently. As life rubs up against our wounds we project onto the very people and situations that have come to clear the debris and this state of resistance creates feelings of overwhelm and struggle.

Drum roll please…

I have unconsciously arranged my life to avoid feeling my core wound of abandonment, cleverly constructing a self-sufficient, independent persona that can handle herself and her life without needing anyone else; a woman who could not be abandoned.

I have spent most of my 40 years outside the container of relationship, dabbling with lovers but avoiding anything that might awaken the beast of my imprisoned wound. I have fortified my life to avoid this childhood abscess; developing skills and attributes that could stand against the attempt to pry open my emotional cellar.

I have been unconsciously ‘managing’ my life.

This is a half lived existence and my midlife transit is guiding me towards the spiritual evolution of surrender, or as I am putting it, saying ‘fuck yes’ to life.

Making the commitment to actually live, to let life penetrate every atom, every cell and to not resist it.

Saying 'fuck yes' to life is choosing to offer up all protection and guarding of my heart and to commit to staying open no matter what happens.

To refuse to close.

Saying 'fuck yes' is refusing to create corners of compatibility or incompatibility, good or bad, within my experience. It is asking me to drop all analysis and judgement, to stop filtering or managing what comes in.

To live the full spectrum of aliveness.

Saying 'fuck yes' is refusing to let my mind become my master and resisting any thoughts that beckon me to close, the ones that tell me it is not safe, or that someone cannot be trusted. It is casting anchor in the deeper knowing and steadiness of the soul which is forever resting behind any story of pain, untouched.

Saying 'fuck yes' is integrating the tender and fearful parts of me with love. Mothering myself fiercely, and like a good mother gently encouraging these parts to emerge into the light and not letting them dictate from the recesses. Holding out my hand to the little girl inside me and telling her ‘you are safe and loved’.

The truth is, she always was.

Saying 'fuck yes' is being ok with my pain and suffering, not resisting any feelings, particularly the ones I have deemed ‘unacceptable’. It is refusing to manage my suffering and instead giving it a place on the altar of my life equal to my joy and ecstasy.

Saying 'fuck yes' is acknowledging that I have no control over anything and the times I thought I did were an illusion. I am being asked to rest back in this river of the great unknown, my only responsibility is to allow the current to carry me.

Saying 'fuck yes' is trusting the current.

Saying 'fuck yes' is the knowledge that my emotions are fleeting and changing, they are not the authority of my experience but are guides to where I can say yes more deeply.

Most importantly saying 'fuck yes' is remembering I am living on a planet that is spinning through empty space and my experiences and engrossment in life is just stardust. What seems overwhelming to me is a mere speck in cosmos. In the face of my true nature which is limitless and eternal my fears are nothing but empty particles of space.

Saying 'fuck yes' is devoting my life to not staying comfortable, but choosing life.

and I choose to live.

Winter Icely