I've had some painful awarenesses and revelations in the last month. Lots of rage, lots of weeping, periods of despondency, and, thank God, hope. I've spent all of my life running from these feelings - keeping too busy and indulging in addictive behaviors have been the primary coping mechanisms. And as I remove all of these shields (that have seemed necessary), I am left with ... me. Raw, vulnerable, questioning, alone - very alone, despite being surrounded by many. And the following picture came into my head:
There's this Shepherd with a rod and a staff, kind of nudging me away from the aloneness, the emptiness, and moving me gently toward this flock of warm and fuzzy sheep. The Shepherd experience has revealed to me two things in particular:
(1) I have sorely needed the discipline that has been my life over the past year as I removed flour and sugar from my diet (eliminating yet another item on my list of addictive behaviors). It's taken A LOT of discipline. But the discipline has come to be comforting as opposed to controlling or punishing. It identifies the boundaries for me (boundaries have NEVER been something with which I've been familiar) and makes more clear where to be, and where not to be.
(2) Being "inside" the flock is very different than being "around" the flock or "near" the flock. It's actually safe inside the flock. Supportive. An opportunity to "chill" instead of being so gosh darn "busy" all the time. Flocks rock!
And the flock is where I've needed to be during this little return trip to hell. I don't have my "drugs" to numb the feelings, obliterate the crappy thinking, stop the cellular hurricanes. And as one of my sheep reminds me, "The only way to get through hell is to keep on walking."
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