Having grown up with Nick Cave’s music, I still regularly hear his voice ringing in my ears singing: “The lord is my shepherd and I shall not want”. Somehow, for reasons far beyond the song, I early on received that very same message from my own shepherds in life. In my childish interpretation of my world, I somehow internalised that one imperative: I shall not want. It is ego-driven, selfish, wrong and makes me a burden on others.
If you can’t see it, you are it. I would surely not have become this imperative, had I known the amount of havoc suppressing my needs and wants would wreak on my life for years to come, all the way into adulthood. Pretty soon my needs were no longer just suppressed, but repressed. I had no idea they were still living there, in the cellar of my house, in the attic, in the cavity walls .. My needs were calling me; yet I could not hear them.
I also had no idea why, even though I believed in the possibility of abundance for the rest of the world, my cup remained empty. Out of some misplaced arrogance I had singled myself out, thinking whatever was true for the rest of the human race was untrue for me. Even though the rest of the world population deserved to be loved unconditionally, without ever having to earn it, I didn’t believe I was deserving; I judged myself for not even being capable of working up to a state of lovableness by burning the candle on both ends.
Well, how can you expect to experience fulfilment if your cup has a hole in it? How can you experience abundance if whatever you fill your receptacle with gushes out again just as fast? Not only did I experience not receiving what I needed, I also could not retain what did come my way. I could not even conceive where this sense of emptiness came from. It’s hard to recognise you’re in the middle of the desert if you’ve never seen the forest.
How could I get not just what I wanted, but what I needed if I were totally unaware, so unaware I could not even acknowledge my needs, let alone communicate them? All this time, I still came from fear and lack instead of abundance and love, fulfilment and wholeness. I still believed deep down that whatever was possible for others was out of reach for me. The part of me that never grew up still believed I was rightly punished for being an utterly unlovable, miserable, wretched creature. How could I create my best life from that space?
Now I see that the universe was not punishing me. On the contrary, in all its potential for love, it invited people and events into my life that brought all the floaters (turds) up to the surface so that I could see them and scoop them out of the water until that pongy stagnant pool turned into an ocean wide, clear and surprisingly blue.
Thank you to all those who brought up my stuff no matter how painful, who I felt rejected and abandoned by. Thank you for bringing me closer, one step at a time, to becoming reconciled to the abundance of life! Thank you for supporting me in closing the hole in my cup so that it is now, for the first time in ages, brimming with love.
What possibilities of healing are you in resistance of?
Written by Mieke Beurskens