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Broken Open.

Updated: Oct 18


Open.


Ripped raw wide open.


Feeling the full force of feminine openness.


So this is what it really feels like to tear our hearts open.


To the most intense stream of love, gushing through our veins to pour out of our bodies in bliss and pain.


The kind of love that can never been undone, given back, apologised for or ashamed of.


I still love.


Even when my tender heart feels the effects of the ripping open.


Even in this delicate state of heightened sensitivity to every energy surrounding me.


Even when I’m scared. Sad. Fretting and heavy.


Because this love has no limits. It’s not limited by pain. Not limited by the divide between ‘pleasant’ and ‘painful’.


This love endures all of it.


Always.


My heart is like that rip in the dress that can never fully be closed again. I could try and sew it right up, but it wouldn’t be true to the reality of this transformed state.


So, instead of mending... instead of fixing, solving, controlling, forgetting, waiting... I’m wearing this imperfectly sensual beautiful dress just as it is - with my heart wide open.






These words I wrote in an intense time of uncertainty and pain. In my loss. Loss of a deep connection, and of a life that is now never to be lived the same way again.



It is grief.



I have known grief. Grief from death of women who were monumental in my life and the shaping of who I am in subtle, but powerful ways. One was my mother. The other was another women who played that role for some years in my early life. More have been lost in life as well. That grief is not foreign to me.



And I am coming to realize now, that it is not reserved for loss of human life crossing over. It is loss of all things, of anything.



I grieved for myself when I gave up the idea of who I thought I was in a terribly hard point in my life. From a destructive, disordered way of living, that was still a strong identity for me. I had to let her go. And I grieved for her.



We grieve the lives we lose when we move, change jobs, say goodbye to friends, behaviours, patterns, parts of our selves that we know is time to let go.



And now, I am grieving my loss of relationship.



To a man I love deeply, and always will. I grieve our life we created, our home, our intricacies and our jokes. Our knowing of each other and comfort of our touch. Our understanding of our inner worlds. Our bodies sensitivities. Our raw intimacy of vulnerable connection. Our patterns. Our conversations. Our shared interests. Our differences.



I grieve this life that is never to be the same again. I grieve this time past. And I grieve more fully now, as I am letting go more completely.



Though with grievance, I know, is acceptance. I can feel that rush in. Often described as the 'fifth stage' of grief, I feel myself entering these warm waters of acceptance. Bathing in these waters is like a healing balm for my soul.



Acceptance that this life that is lost, was also a gift. For all that it was, for all that we experienced and learnt and loved - what an incredible gift.



To feel this pain so deeply, I know that is it the direct product of loving so fully. And that is a testament to my own capacity to open to full, flowing love.



As even now, when I feel the spectrum of feeling; with memory, thoughts, nostalgia, regret, confusion and loss, I feel that love residing. And that trust, as I mention in my previous post, that all is as it is, because there could be no other way for life to play out.



Trust that this moment in time is a threshold where the great mother of love and creation is beckoning me to step into. Gently guiding me through the waters of emotion with the light of her being illuminating the way.



I'm following her now.



She's spoken to me. Through little divine signals. Occurrences beyond coincidence. Nudges that feels so right. Creative energy surging through me.




So I listen.



She tells me 'this is what you were made for. To love and lose, and love again. To create and flow and drop deep into your own heart.'



She's reminding me that this capacity to love in this grief is my true source of power, and that it will take me to places beyond what I've dreamed of.



I trust that. I don't need to know what will happen. Where I will go from here. I know who I am, and I let this love guide the way. This mother guides my soul, as if my own mother were calling me from the divine realm. I feel her, in me, as me.



So my heart has been broken. But not damaged, in the usual sense of the word.



It has been broken wide open.



To let more love, compassion, wisdom and empowerment rush in.



Not carefully extracted open in a surgical and artificial way. Do we ever open our hearts like that? Careful and purposeful, sensible and proper?



I don't believe we do. We do it recklessly, messily, diving right in. We do it with fear, with vulnerability, when we are broken and when we feel uninhibited joy.



I thank my love, my loss, my grief and this ending for the incredible, scary and divine new beginning that is brewing for this life now.



Thank you, heart, for being willing to break.



Being closed was never who you were meant to be.







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