91. A cracked, unfinished line

The night before this one, when the pain came I released the fear, the tensions in the body, resulting from the pain and the expectations that it will come again, I released sadness and the madness that drives this pain, that something that motivates it to come. When I did all these, which took some time, the pain stopped and I fell asleep. This happened six or seven times during the night. Every time the pain woke me up I did not stay in a sleepy state, but woke myself up more, so I could do all these with fresh concentration. In all six or seven times it worked.

I was very tired all through the day after that night.

This night, when the pain increased I did it again, and this time, being so tired, it did not work. As I was releasing fear around midnight, the fear did not end. More of it came. I continued to release and more of it came. Several times during this process I felt the endless space in which everything happens, but the fear had more reserves and even more. After two hours the flow of fear felt as if it has gotten tired.

When I thought about all that came up in the last two days I thought that it felt like a trauma, with so many strong emotions mixed together and attached to each other in such a way that it makes it hard to simply release something and be in peace. You release one thing and the other is already there. You release that one and the former one comes back.

I got up from bed and went to draw. drawing always saves me from everything. I felt like a survivor of a natural disaster. My brush went to one of the dark blues and these shaken lines came onto the paper.

Shattered

Shattered

 I looked at different parts of the drawing and wrote the sentences that came to me. I scrambled them, added a few words and made small changes in other places. This is what was made:

I look at a broken fence

Among the torn trees

I pick up

A bent limb

And throw it at

A shattered rock

I turn around and leave the place

Walking on a shaken dirt road

Like a cracked, unfinished line

On a torn piece of a path.

It all felt horrible. But I was so moved by the surprising beauty that came up in this way that I felt satisfied and happy.

I still do.

Advertisements

0 Responses to “91. A cracked, unfinished line”



  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s




Award

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 323 other followers

My Pages

The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.


%d bloggers like this: