From Somewhere

One of the things I miss the most about being in the rut rather than in the groove is not being able to surprise myself.

When I am in open conversation with other people, I will often hear phrases come out of my mouth that contain wisdom I didn’t know I posessed.

For example, I was at a Pagan Day, and I asked a participant about his invocation of feminine energies.

“Well, the feminine is passive. . .” he said.

“Really?”  I said.  “I prefer to call it receptive.”

I could feel the women around me lift.  No, we are not passive, but we are receptive, and that counts.

I didn’t know that I understood that, but I opened my mouth and it came out.

I learned at a very young age to run everything through my head.  My mother was emotional, and she was a mess of narcissitic self-pity; it was all about her.  So I used the techniques from my father, not understanding they were based in his Aspbergers.

That whole head thing, I have used it.  At first it was for control, but I switched it over to monitoring, and that system of wiring helped me try to find words for what I was feeling.

But it has diminishing returns, and at some point I need to trust the source, not my mining of it.

I need to speak out and speak up, and be surprised & enlightened by my own wisdom.

That center comes from somewhere, and I need to trust it.

Chick Choices, you know.