Open the Floodgates
This is the ongoing journal of my personal awakening. Through up to date and un-edited realness, I hope to help you walk through your own awakening with more balance, love and ease.
Grief. Sadness. Pain. What do I feel in my body? A tightness in my chest and throat. Pulling downward. It invites me to go down, sink into the sadness. But I don’t want to go down there. What if I don’t come back out? My nose feels tight. It’s difficult to describe the sensation. There are tears waiting to come out but they are just at bay. I know I’m holding back from diving into this fully. I feel the wall of numbness. The blanket that I hold around me. Protecting me. So I don’t slip into the depths. I don’t want to go there. But part of me knows I need to.
What do I feel in my body in this moment? Pressure behind my nose and eyes. Dull ache in my head. Chills. Heaviness in my stomach. I can tell that I’m distancing myself from these feelings somewhat. Numbing myself because it’s easier. Easier than feeling the tightness in my chest like I can’t breathe. Help me — help me to feel all of this one moment at a time. Help me not make it go away. Because that is what I’d rather do. Sweep it under the rug. Push it back in a corner. But I know if I do that it will always be there. I want to move through it. Help me move through it.
Please help me open the floodgates. I know I’m holding back the waters and it’s exhausting. Trying to keep the feelings back. I feel the strain at my seams. I want to let it all go. To flow. Wherever the water will take me. But it’s scary. That’s why I cling. To the safety of where I’ve been. Or it seems safe but is it really? Would I rather be stuck behind the gates? Never to see what’s out there beyond? To the place where all is allowed, all is felt, all is expressed. Help me to go freely — into the deepest emotions. And float to the surface again.
Dizzy from dancing. Light headed. Spinning. I feel my breath trying to catch up with me. Alive. And also my hip hurts. Will it always be this way when I dance? I don’t know. But for now it’s a hodgepodge. Feeling exhilarated. And also like I might pass out. My brain needs more oxygen. Or is it too much? Do I feel too much or too little of what’s going on inside me? That’s a question I don’t know the answer to right now. And it’s ok. Breathing deep once more. I’m slowing down back to my regular pace, with tingling in my feet.
Julia Coplan, an intuitive artist, uses dance, photography and writing to get unstuck from mental chatter and allow creativity to flow through.
