Radical Aloneness on Shame



"Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark."  ~Tagore

I am healing and I am healed!

I still try to protect myself even now where there is safety and Love, while overcome and ecstatic inside the joys of simply being a soul in a woman's body.We woke up into foggy filled longing for . . . Truth. Acceptance. Touch. You. Someone. Anyone.

Oh, Grace.

The shame speaks seductively with an old story of not good enough while the wind swirls around in a sweeter voice and the truth remains true, as it does. This shame is not me and that blame is not you. You are the one to feel all that has been left the most. Within the amazing ways you love your children.

For the feminine soul I breathe and I beg in prayer. To be the work that is so much bigger, and just as big as me. As you. As her.

I'm tired of protecting my heart, aren't you?

Growing up and to this day I never really considered myself an artist.  Perhaps it wasn't nurtured well enough as a kid. I do remember how much I loved to draw, paint, write, sing and dance more than anything else.

Like most kids I suppose, but it really was my saving Grace in a lot of ways. Performing, painting drawing, taking photos when I was pre-teen, all the way until drugs and alcohol became my outlet and main form of expression and release.

Years of feeling painfully disconnected, suffering massive anxiety, unseen and unable to speak or share at all began to transform into practicing honesty and using the pain I felt as a doorway to deeper love, trust and intimacy.

Those years of psychedelics now I see helped me tap into a world I was comfortable in, one not fully here on Earth but protected, and one that at the time really kept me going. I was (and often am) always looking to get free and be loved.

Although lifetimes of transformation has gone on and the ways I connect to and express this wildness in me has completely changed, I am in a lot of ways still the same girl from New Jersey.

For better and for well . . . you know what they say. There are great days and intensely hard ones too. Relatively speaking.

The main difference is that now I consciously know what my inner wisdom sounds and feels like. I have always cared but now i'm more willing to do something about it. Loving ourselves is to care about listening to your body's intuitions and longings, to take the baby steps, and to remember we are always learning.

Over the years of healing and meditation training I began to get in touch with this wild and free creative Spirit inside again in ways that satisfied the hunger. I like to call her Awakened Feminine Spirit. 

This past weekend I chanted and did sound healing for a couple of women's circles. It is always such an honor and deeply humbling experience with chanting because it used to be so hard for me to open my mouth and share my voice.

It is incredible to be in a seat where you are serving and you really get the space to see what is coming up for you without being able to run or hide.  Sometimes it is pure divine nectar dripping all over my face and body and other times it's like an elementary school bully fest. The shame,the blame, the self abuse gets louder and dissolves into the sacred sound.

To feel everything that goes on within us and to be forgiving and loving and kind is no small job.  In one circle we called out things we feel shame for and whomever had a similar experience raised their hand, wow.  THe power and healing that comes from knowing we are not alone is immense. The other piece of it is knowing that sense of "not alone" when it's just us and God.  Feeling that power of togetherness when we are alone is a huge piece of radical aloneness.

All of our efforts to heal and be healed and release the shame that comes from old stories are acknowledged by Spirit and by our feminine hearts. The fruit is in the attempt and in the failures too.  The gift is really right in the journey of learning how to be yourself- through it all, and the faith, the trust, that we can't stop from showing up.

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Photo by @megshoemaker

Adriana RizzoloComment