It was Friday afternoon at Beltane. I was sitting on the cabin porch with my gimp leg propped up on my crutches. My cabin mates were sitting and standing around, waiting for lunch to be served. Laughing, joking, recounting each others’ exploits thus far. And I started to cry.
Silently at first, choking on the sobs so that somebody or nobody would notice. No one did. More joking. More laughter. All the while, tears and sobs shook my body.
Eventually, someone caught me in her peripheral vision.
“Hey. Are you ok?”
My eyes, by this point, were red and swollen. I don’t remember my exact answer. I think I let out a sob. At some point, words started pouring out between the sobs. I remember fragments of what I said.
Disconnected. Don’t know why I’m crying. Frustrated. I know I’m being dramatic. Feeling rejected and helpless. Why couldn’t I connect.
Fortunately, Sarah was around to help me ground and regroup. Earlier that day, I went to her catharsis play class. I had told her that I wanted to do a cathartic scene, and she suggested a few people for me to talk to.
After patiently listening to my outpouring, she took action, and asked the others if they could eat with me so I felt a little more included. Part of me reverted to my preteen self, sitting alone in the school cafeteria. And the cool kids were only sitting with me at lunch because the teacher made them. Then I got mad at myself for thinking along those lines, and even more tears poured down my cheeks.
It’s ok. You’re safe here. Just let it out.
More people joined me. I felt silly, being surrounded by chatty happy people while sobbing into my sandwich, but she guided me through.
Imagine a giant root stemming from your heart and running deep into the ground. Take all that hurt, and send it deep into the ground.
I let it all snake through me from the top of my head, through my feet, and deep into the earth.
She looked me dead in the eye. “You realize that this is the catharsis you were looking for, right?”
The last dry heave dislodged itself from my throat. After that moment, my weekend took on a very different shape.
Recent Comments