I have voices in my head. We all do, right? I am totally normal. Luckily, one of my internal voices is very old and wise and wonderful.
When I think of my internal voices, I feel a bit weird to be so aware of them. I call them my committee, and they are always there. Sometimes they are a lot louder and more chaotic than they NEED to be.
I view these aspects of myself with varying degrees of acceptance. Different aspects seem to be “in charge” at different times, and sometimes they fight with each other a lot: like over-tired, sugared-up kids at a daycare.
After several very tumultuous days of nightmares and not sleeping well and really heavy and overwhelming emotions last week, I find myself feeling almost normal and calm, this week. The version of myself that I think of as the “Wise Woman” has shown up, thankfully. She is calm, and peaceful…and quietly, wonderfully powerful.
She’s the part of my internal crone. When I believe in magic, I see her as an Earth Witch … having lived many lives and learned many lessons, she is quiet during most of the storms, and seems to know that they will pass.
She is patient, and waits for me in the garden. When I arrive, she smiles, pats the stool that just happens to be next to her, and invites me to sit a while and feel the breeze on my face while the sun shines on our backs.
In The Garden
She goes about her work without saying much. She seems to be there just to receive me – she has been part of me for a long, long time (or I of her) and she finds all of my explosive drama and temper tantrums just kind of humorous.
Her silence invites me to look at the drama of the previous week through a different lens. She’s open to hearing the story, but she really only wants to know what I have learned. She gives me permission to just let the rest go in the breeze.
So I revisit the nightmares and “little shop of horrors” that my brain served up over the days before this moment. Emotions so big that it felt like I couldn’t survive them. Self judgment couched as acceptance, fear of loss, grief and despair and more fear. In the midst of my storms, they seem to be ALL that there is and all that will ever be.
Thankfully, as with every other storm before this one, I survived it. I am still here.
I feel more at peace, now. I also realize once again that I can breathe. That I will recover from the emotional and existential pain I feel during my “brain storms”.
I feel my Wise Woman feeling proud of me…nodding in her quiet way as she sits and tends her garden. She has a knowing look on her face. A look that says “This was necessary … you needed to learn.”
I’m still a little frustrated that some of these “learnings” have to be such long and painful lessons, but she chuckles at even that.
So I take the gift she offers, and I rest in the garden with her. I can breathe, and enjoy the quiet, and still know that I won’t be able to stay in this place of inner peace forever.
My brain is simply not wired that way, and only by accepting that can I have any hope of mitigating the damage when the next storm comes.
And it will come, because they always do. It doesn’t matter whether I want them, or seek them. These are chemical storms, my brain storms.
My job now is to get up, and move on, and take what I’ve learned and put it to good use. To embrace my Wise Woman and accept that she may choose to go dormant again.
I look forward to the time in my life when she is in charge more often.
My Wise Woman Goes to Committee could be considered Part II of this post.