What's behind Door Number Three?
The old saying is true - "You don't know what you got until its gone.". I didn't realise how much time I had on my hands, how much of a luxury it has been to write daily....until now.
I've begun the two week coundown before this major event that we are producing and managing and have been working 16 hour days. Now that sounds big and stress filled, however I am finding it to be enjoyable, productive and simply heaps of fun.
Anyone who "knows" me, knows my "story" would question that statement, however since doing the daily Activations, my energy level is increased substantially. I am feeling less detached from the colour of the story and more focused on my purpose for it.
Thats a nice side effect.
(Can you see the justification story emerging here? he he:-)
My observations this week have all been about the integration of my body - which obviously represents and mirrors something quite important to me. For me, it is like being on a treasure hunt and all these observations are clues. However the treasure hunt is simply ONE game to play in a world with limitless options.
I am watching my "self" - whatever that is - strain to connect my torso to my limbs. I can see how I "hold" gurgling fears and stories in my stomach and can almost track corresponding upset tummies to external stories playing out. So I'm asking myself "Whats behind Door Number Three? What's behind the challenge with connecting my torso to my limbs in the activations? What's behind this? What is my body telling me?
I spent time with both my parents on Easter Sunday - separately at different times and locations. I was then ill all night and the following day - purported food poisoning. No one else experienced any symptoms. While in Bali one month ago, with my business partner/ex husband, I was ill the entire week - purported Bali Belly - food poisoning. He didn't experience one symptom.
First Chart in this Case Study - The Dis Ease Map. :-)
I could create quite a catalogue of justifications, explanations, reasons and ultimately stories about the WHY and eventually consider them to be real. At the end of the day, I will always get what I see - my perspective is based on my perspective is based on my perspective so story upon story layer upon layer - I am a character in my own story instead of looking BEYOND it to the bigger picture.
I have many years invested in the "My Parents are Monsters" story - it is a best seller. Yet spending time with Mum and Dad separately gave me an interesting perspective – a bit of a school project if you like – comparing and contrasting. Horror of horrors, I am quite a mix of both of them – as we humans are genetically predisposed. This study of self through the mirror of others is a fascinating experience.
Childhood was an adventure for my brother and I as our parents faced and fought many dragons in their Heroes Journeys. I say adventure after writing various words and then deleting them. My first word was "horrific" - interesting description choice - compared to what? I am actually laughing at myself at this point while observing my language choice as the story unfolds.
In the past, I have felt such shame at having been married and divorced twice - the same shame I felt during my childhood in regard to my own parents. However now, in merely observing that history, I wonder about what and who I was identifying myself with to make such a judgement?
Each generation seeks identity through the external mirrors - relationship, family, position, power, knowledge, money, work, appearance, mythology, dogma. I used to believe that my generation tried to find an identity through relationship as we had no connection to self. How funny - EVERY generation is the same. In a shifting world of religion, society and transforming values, perhaps we ALL attempt to re create stories of the past while trying to live a fantasy - an ideal for the future - as portrayed in the media and the entertainment mediums or in books, myths or fables?
For my part, I had no clue who I was. I "owned" a vast collection of external personality impressions that I greatly resented and continually fought. The common catchphrase in my family was "You're such a Nicki". Man that pissed me off! I seemed to be powerless to control or change that sentiment and that truly bothered me.
Looking back in review of my "history", I can see how my first marriage and subsequent adoption into a big Italian family facilitated my transition from childhood into youth by surrogating my biological family in a language that I understood. That relationship did not end but merely changed in form - its purpose was family and that is how it remains. My next marriage forged a critical step in the identity process for me. Transitioning out of youth and away from "the family", this relationship shook me out of my childhood fantasies, shattering oh so many myths to create a solid Enterprise foundation in order to "grow" me - whoever that was. That relationship did not end but merely changed in form - its purpose was business and that is how it remains.
Great story but at least I'm collecting more observations and less judgements about it now. Somehow it looks clearer and less tainted by shame.
So with several paradigms shifted into unfamiliar territory, I can see how my torso struggling to connect to my limbs indicates more ancient pattern treasures lying in wait for discovery and observation - I guess in one form, collapsing the charge.
So I observe and observe and note when my stomach turns and gurgles as it has become a weather bane of sorts. It still tells me stories, however I am not listening to THEM as much as watching how they bubble and boil.