I just want to be heard. That’s all. I’ve felt locked up inside myself, unable to express how I feel, and my ham-fisted and combative attempts to make myself understood have only deepened the chasm between myself and my imperfect present tense.
So I’ve retreated into my head, into what I’d hoped would be silence. Except for that constant inner dialogue of anger and resentment that means at night I sleep with headphones on, looping YouTube playlists of murder documentaries, sleep hypnosis sessions or music – anything just to drown myself out.
Isolating myself from myself and the people around me has made it even harder to be heard. Everything becomes a drama, then. Interactions at work are hostile, aggressive, degrading – and locked inside myself, looking out, it has been horrific to see how most people simply reflect back what I push out into the world. I show up angry and demanding, and without realizing they’re doing it, colleagues, friends and family respond in (un)kind.
But then yesterday and again today, two people responded to things I said and pretty much smacked me awake on two different levels.
Yesterday I was challenged on something I’d shared and the challenge immediately got my back up – a defensive, angry, and eventually dismissive exchange followed. I was ready to write the other person off and exit the group, dismissing them as a bunch of over-sensitive snowflakes of the worst kind, when a friend checked me, checked my anger and said to me, privately “I think you are feeling this as a very strong rejection… it’s not, and it’s not a judgement of you.”
That poured water on the fire raging inside me – well, enough to get me to shut up and listen to the rest of their message.
For the first time in a long while I felt like I was being heard. Not my words, so much, but how I was feeling words and worlds thrown at me.
It was humbling. And humiliating. No room for righteous indignation and hurt pride when someone wraps you up in compassion and total comprehension of your emotional reactivity. Humiliating because surely by now I should have the tools and knowledge and experience to know that the best way to respond in these angsty, enflamed situations – to know to pause, breathe, think, and then respond?
Their intervention meant yesterday did not end as the huge pile of stinking shit it very nearly became.
Today in casual conversation I mentioned my current state of eternal inner rage. (Why? Hmm. Maybe some divine nudging going on there.)
The person I spoke to looked me dead in the eye and told me how that rage has sapped all my energy and vitality; it was noticeable and effecting everyone around me.
They unpacked a perspective of their cosmic/karmic/soul connection and it was like someone was reading my instruction manual – one I’d never bothered to read myself.
The more they spoke, the more I felt my soul being laid bare and the simplistic instincts of action/reaction revealed to me.
Without ever saying as much, they spoke directly to my disconnection. From myself. From the world. From my spirit. The turmoil and ire ripping me apart was witnessed, validated, and again I was urged to release the poison building like cancer inside me.
They spoke with kindness, with compassion, and without trying to fix or control me, or tell me how I was feeling.
Both these people heard me. Heard the truth behind my words. They made space for the mess I am right now and left me to my own revelations.
I’m deeply skeptical about spiritual messengers – oracles and auguries – especially now, when I don’t have the space or energy to pander to the belief in a benevolent and merciful universe.
But if I were less cynical, I would believe you – maybe – if you told me these two were dropped into my consciousness at just the right time, at that infinitesimal point where I might just be able to hear them hearing me.
Right now, though, I know enough to be grateful for the chance to be less angry.
©️ Dave Luis 2018. All Rights Reserved.