Sorting Things Out

Sorting Things Out

I’ve been silent for several days, dear readers.

I am sorting things out. This is to say that I am FEELING things out; literally feeling things out of my life.

I have been sorting through one particular box; a box I avoided for a long time. The contents of this box include a jumbled assortment of regrets, betrayal, manipulation, resentment, bitterness, wounds, anger, abandonment, brokenness, pain, pain, pain, pain. I don’t want to look in this box! I don’t! I don’t! I don’t! And yet the contents seem to poison the very air around them. There is a smell coming from the box. Up until now I’d rather live with the smell than look at the dead thing it is coming from.

I know that I want to be free. I know that in order to be free I must take out the contents and deal with them.

If I don’t look at the contents I may keep them around because I think there just might be something in there I need. Why not just seal up the box and throw it away? If I just seal the box and throw it away, there may be a part of me that remains connected, still wondering if there was something I should keep.

Only by examining the contents can I know for sure and certain what, if anything, is worth keeping. Oh, dear God help me, I want to be free; help me to look, help me to see, help me to FEEL…

Oh, I don’t want to look! The contents are ugly and putrid. I see faces swirling in there, mine included. Evidence, this box contains evidence. By holding on to this box I use it as evidence to pass judgment against myself as well as others. Victim Story, this box reeks of vile scent of victim story. It is a pack of lies with no happy ending that leaves the storyteller powerless and stuck and questioning her own sanity. Self-hatred, oh, that is the poison; it is making me so sick. I recognize everything that I despise in others in my own heart.

There is nothing in here I want to keep! Nothing! I can't see anything of value in here! I don’t need this! I don’t want this! I hate the stench and the ugliness! I hate carrying the weight of it all. I don’t ever want to look in here again. I don't want to feel these emotions! But I will not stuff it all back in! No! I will shred it to pieces, I will shred the evidence! I will erase the victim story and change the story. I will burn all the little pieces! I will forgive and accept –maybe even learn to love- myself, my imperfect self, right here and now…and in the next moment, and the one after that and the next and so on and so on forever. I will feel the emotions and cry tears that wash the eyes of my heart so that I am able to see the hidden treasure in an otherwise painful experience.

I choose freedom. I choose freedom. The more I release the more freedom I have. Of course this box is inside me; it is a box related to a particular experience.

I am the container for all my experiences and all the emotions that go along with those experiences.

Feeling the emotions that are stuffed inside is not typically pleasant. They aren't pretty pretty and certainly are "not welcome in polite society." Some seem like starving beasts that want out to feed. In the past I've tried to keep them carefully chained and caged.Sometimes I’m afraid that by feeling the emotions I am feeding them. This is a lie! Sometimes it may seem that way, but in fact the opposite is through. My emotions have plenty to feed on when I cage them; they eat me up inside.

I am sorting (a.k.a. feeling) through experiences and emotions associated with mistakes, betrayal and/or violation. Feeling the emotions does not mean that I haven’t forgiven. It is part of the forgiveness process. Feeling the emotions takes willingness. It is part of the human life experience and therefore it is never over. The whole point of this is to feel emotions PERIOD.

I accept that I cannot “power out” nor "will" myself free of my emotions. I accept that I cannot pray away my emotions. I can pray through them, but I can’t pray them away.

Somewhere inside I received the message that it is bad, that I am bad, if I feel and express my “negative” emotions. I am not bad when I feel anger and resentment and bitterness and regret. I am not bad for feeling these things. These are simply real emotions that exist in relation to certain experiences. They are not “good” or “bad,” they are part of my experience. They are emotions; God gave me emotions so that I will FEEL them, not STUFF them. Heck, God feels emotion. Why would I be any different?

I’m sorting through things. I am not bad and I am not a failure. I am brave and willing to pull these things out and examine them in the light of day. Examination is risky; often confusing and painful; it involves allowing the feelings to come up and out. Every emotion I feel is shredding a little more judgmental “evidence.” Feeling my emotions burns away the pieces of offense and cleanses my wounds so that they can no longer fester inside. Feeling my emotions moves me more and more into moment-by-moment acceptance and love of my perfectly imperfect self…and of other’s perfectly imperfect selves.

I am surrounded by safe people now. I am surrounded by people who encourage me to feel my emotions and who I know will accept me no matter what emotion I am expressing. I am in a secure place and I’m willing to feel all these emotions and feel them fully throughout my life. I have opened the box and begun sorting through things. I’m not going to close the box. I’m not going to leave anything unsorted and I’m not stuffing anything back in. Though it is hard and scary, it is safe for me to look in this box. It is time for me to feel.

I’m sorting things out.