play...sing...dance...laugh...and cry..

"play...sing...dance...laugh...and cry.."


That is quite a list, quite a set of prerequisites, although I understand it's a process that combines everything rather than a list we work through one at a time.  I can sing, although I don't do it enough.  And I cry a lot, although crying was something I really had to learn.  I think I learned well.  Lots of practice after years of none.

Okay, play...I play guitar.  I play cards.  I play scrabble.  I play with yarn and create things.  I play with words.  I am not sure if I am playful, though.

Dance - don't do it.  I wish I did, but I feel awkward and ugly and uncomfortable when I move my body in public.  Sometimes I dance in the backyard, just to see how it feels.  And it never lasts long, because I feel awkward and...I wish I had taken dance classes.  I wish I could take dance classes.  I have had this resistance to dancing all of my life.  I have always wanted to be still and quiet in public.  I have always wanted to avoid being watched.  I don't want to be seen.  I feel safe when I am invisible. Yet when I am in the corner, I am wishing someone would notice me.  I am wishing there was something special about me.

That's why it was so hard for me to karaoke the first time.  I had to stand where everyone could see me.  And sing loud.  But I did it, and I got a round of applause.

I don't laugh enough.  And when I do, I feel like I'm not laughing as hard as anyone else and like I'm a bit separated from everyone else.  I haven't had a good belly laugh for a long time.  I love it when it happens...but I will admit that I recognize a glimmer of nervousness in myself.  I wonder if I am laughing too hard.  I rarely ever relax and just accept myself, and accept myself as being acceptable to others.

You and S#3 and B#4 all laugh so easily.  I envy that.  This is one of those instances where I associate most with Grandma.  She never laughed.  She offered the occasional weak smile.  I don't want to be that.  I need to find something funny.

So I need an assignment in our Coming Back to Life School.  I need to sing more, and I need to find something to laugh at.  We'll work up to dancing...

To respond - fear paralyzes us.  That is why it is such an effective weapon.  I suddenly thought of a story.  There was an old tom cat, everyone in the neighborhood hated it.  One day an owl swooped down and caught it. (Have I told this story before?)  Generally when an owl catches a prey animal, it immediately surrenders, and goes limp, accepting it's fate.  But the cat was not prey.  It fought back which shocked the owl who dropped it from a fairly high point.  Apparently the cat was never the same again.  That appeased the neighbors.  But what stayed with me is that fear paralyzes us, making us an easy mark.

It seems that fear should move us into flight or fight  --  in spite of fright!  Something happened to remove that part of us that preserves self...I have never considered this before...Perhaps being abused at a very young, very dependent, very helpless age by someone bigger and stronger destroys our fight or flight for the rest of our lives.

I appreciate the Pennington prayer.  Thank you.

Until tomorrow - love and sweet dreams!!

Clare