Bark, Blood and a Breakthrough.
On asking and receiving
What the hell was stabbing me? I suddenly wondered, tossing the plastic cheese stick wrapper onto the table next to me and reaching into the back of my shirt.
I stared at the object for a moment or two before identifying it: a piece of bark that resembled an elementary schooler’s attempt to draw the state of Michigan. Next to it, on my open palm, was a splotch of blood—thankfully not the size of a Great Lake.
Oh my god. Did I just pay for this cheese stick covered in blood? Do I have more TREE stuck to me?!
I wasn’t drunk or under the influence. In fact, I was sitting in the common area of a retreat center during the lunch rush, assessing the damage and witnessing the aftermath of my nervous system being completely flooded.
A short while before this discovery, I found my rigid body pacing a hallway, and my attempts at staying in the present failing. That’s when I sheepishly muttered eleven words out loud to a practical stranger: “Can you help me figure out what I need right now?” She took me by the shoulders and guided me to a wall a few feet away from the others in the room. Her voice offered just enough guidance and comfort for me to access what I couldn’t ignore: “I think I need to move.”
“There you go. Go outside right now,” she confirmed, gently reminding me to steer away from analysis and trust the part of me that was screaming to be felt.
So I trudged through the snow, my path looking like a teenager had just done donuts in a parking lot.
You’re being dramatic. I can’t believe you just did that. Shame.
How the hell did I even get here? Sadness.
This is FUCKING BULLSHIT. Anger.
As each wave of emotion passes, I slowly came back to myself, back to my body, back to the present. Eventually, I lowered myself to the ground, collapsing against a tree. I relaxed against its trunk and stayed there until I was ready to move again.
And now, as I sat staring at my biohazard hand and the hitchhiking piece of flora, I felt something surprising: pride and gratitude.
I asked, and I received.
I took care of myself.
I survived.
Hell fucking YES, Maggie!!!