It is clear to me that underneath this exterior is a soul that feels so separate from the set of reality. Some might use the word lost. But lost seems to convey that some how I am at fault, or I’m aimless and just a soul that has no hope for return and worse yet doesn’t even know it. I don’t quite align with all of that, this is a kind of sense where I am acutely aware of in pretty much every situation I am standing in. It’s like this process of digestion of the layers of what I am looking at. I can look and see the reality of my home, sense the sounds of the cars and the layers of sound in the moment, I feel my butt in this couch and the coolness in the Colorado air, my cats curled up for their afternoon nap, my son outside playing and my daughter and husband out for some quality time. I watch myself shop and swim and fuck and try and orient to each thing. I talk myself thru what would be considered normal interaction, watch my inner dialogue kick in narrating this weird experience that I am having and sometimes holding on tight for the right social cues not to appear off kilter. I fight to hover above this experience. To swim away from the abyss of swirling down to the point of no return. To turn my brain on itself to begin to analyze my mental health, only to come to the conclusion that this is what it is. I try to create and be seen, to talk and make jokes, to be good at something that defines some purpose to keep creating it. Like my identity in being abstract would somehow give me a lane.
I have found some sort of identity in teaching yoga, offering solace that I don’t know what in the fuck is happening here either, talking some sort of philosophy and life is weird points of view have called in the souls that just might feel the same at times and created a safe place to navigate this part of my awareness. I have made it my job to communicate a felt acceptance to other people, an energy that conveys me solid and unswayed by whatever experience they are navigating. And within that, we both feel anchored, seen and it seems like its a space where miracles happen. Is there truth in any of it? I really don’t know. What I am finding myself coming to understand in this process is I am trying to construct a life, construct connections and relationships that can at least sort of relate. When I try and act normal it is when it gets hard. I find myself lost in the world of reality where suddenly I am alone in what I am really seeing.
I often ask myself and sometimes other people, if I looked normal back there. Did I appear different than how I felt? Is it normal that my brain analysis of my reality feels like I am watching a movie, pretty much all of the time? I googled and found out its called derealization. It has symptoms and it has a treatment which seems to say, you will either get over it with time or you will learn to live with the episodes. Episodes. I like that word, kind of gives the space of how this glitch in reality seems to go.
I have tried to learn how to not just live with my episodes, waiting for them to pass, but to harness the witness that shows up within them. Because that witness seems to stand in some sort of ground of truth. I can see something happening behind the face that doesn’t seem to match the look in their eyes. I can feel when someone isn’t in their body, or their voice is an octave higher that normal. When I worked with people in session, I could often sense where energy was holding even when they couldn’t. In a safe place I can say something. When it was safe or in these sessions where it was my job, it was a space where it felt acceptable to reflect to someone the truth of what i saw when I was standing in front of them. When I could say it, it seemed to bring me comfort. Sometimes it felt like it was a nudge from spirit to speak it. That the thought and energy wouldn’t release unless it was said. An ease in that this experience I have is much bigger than me, much bigger than reality. In some instances it even seemed to bring some sort of new understanding that helped them. They felt grateful for that information. Maybe that is the reality of truth, once you glimpse it, it is hard to go on pretending that you don’t. Maybe because we all, at times are walking around in some state of derealization. Maybe reality is the game, and derealization is when our inner alien is not up for the game anymore and only is hungry for that cosmic truth that doesn’t seem to make any fucking sense.
The tools thru my work that I cultivated to flow freely in my derealization now feels like it doesn’t have a place. 4 weeks ago I left my work, I left my studio, we moved from Texas to Colorado. I look around Colorado and I am in total love with the reality that presents itself here. Being surrounded in clear views of the power and vitality of the mountains and life on this planet is so good for me. I feel lighter in so many ways. I find the parts of living life in this body that I absolutely love, riding my bike, swimming in cold mountain water, feeling my legs burn as I hike up a steep climb. Such good grounding somatic experiences in my humanity. But there are new tools I am reaching for now. In how I relate to my reality, my roles as a mom and a wife, a lover and to be a friend to my people in this life on this human consciousness and how I will embrace that part of me that feels separate from those roles and those realities. That sees something that isn’t completely clear outside of me. But remains rooted in my core, in my truth, what I know and can allow everyone else to go on their own journey of claiming that part of themselves that can see it too.