I was immobilized and falling apart

Darling,

Look around. Everything is dying here in the Northeast.
The grass is brown. The leaves are throwing one last party, exploding with color, before they fall, die, and dry up.
Every year: death.
Birth, life, death.
I have always had a preference for the first two.
Birth is so beautiful. Life – so exciting.

Death? I tried to avoid it.
I only wanted what was good and happy and pleasant.
And I had an inner urgency for everything to appear good and happy and pleasant. No matter what was happening.
I never wanted to show the cracks in the marble.
What woman does, really?

I was scared of death.
Loss.
Rupture.
Fortunately, Rupture was not afraid of me. She demanded equal time, equal love.
She came after me with a vengeance she reserves for avoiders like me, and brought me to my knees.

MEOLA-163Knees?  No.  Actually, flat out.  Immobilized.
Broke me apart in a million bits and pieces.
Which strangely, feels like love.
And my long arduous repossession made me the woman I am today.

We don’t learn to fall apart well in this culture. We avoid our own darkness with drugs or alcohol or food that diminishes our ability to feel what we were meant to feel, born to feel, wired to feel.
We don’t learn how to die. We have no idea how to let things end.
Rupture is an outcast citizen. She is dis-invited to every party.
We avoid her like the enemy, rather than invite her to the finest seat at the banquet table and invite her to take her place.

You cannot rupture without love. Don’t avoid love for that reason. Run towards it, open-armed.

A few years ago, in an 18-month span of time, I lost my father, supported my lover when his son was in a devastating accident, and then, lost my lover.
The life I had been living, and the life I had been planning, vaporized.
I was shocked.
Devastated.
Overwhelmed.
And utterly clueless about what to do next.
So I became a student of my own devastation.

I let Rupture lead.
I stopped all forward motion.
I stopped trying to act like I knew what I was doing.
I stopped trying to pretend I was OK.
I was not OK.
Nothing was OK.
Instead, I wore my inside on the outside.
And I grieved every way I could find, and then some.
My heart.
My mind.
And most especially, my body.
I let her lead us.
I danced and moved my hips and wailed my devastation for as long and loud as she required.
I found the sacred sensual in grief.
I packed heat.

My rupture had a huge range, a mountain range of emotion.
Loss, darkness, hopelessness, vengefulness, rage, danger, heartbreak, devastation, loneliness, despair, helplessness, regret.
It felt exquisite.
Unendurable.
Elating.
It wed me to life and sunk deep roots in my womanity.

My greatest fear, at that time, was that my ruptures and losses meant that I was not ever going to be able to receive, or live my most deeply held desires.
I would never love or be loved again.

But in listening closely, I found out a truth that was greater than my fear.

1.     No matter how it looks at the outset, rupture is actually in service to your desires. Click to tweet this!

2.     The experience of rupture scrubs out whatever old gunk inside stands between you and your desire.

3.     Rupture actually strengthens and hones the parts of you that could have never been accessed without it, that required strengthening.

4.     Embracing and yes, loving your rupture forces you into your greatness. Click to tweet this!

5.     Rupture is the birthplace for all the qualities that you require to truly live your desires and become the woman you were born to be.

Rupture is my guide, my tutor, my teacher, my co-conspirator.
She is a power source that connects me to my divinity.
She is the red, the yellow, the orange of the leaves on the trees, this morning.
Death is upon us, and it looks and feels like love.

Now it’s your turn to share.

How well do you think you handle things when your life is in crisis? Do you live in the land of ‘ok’ or ‘fine’? Do you know how to navigate tremendous change? Do you lose yourself, or find yourself? What were you taught about all this when you were growing up? How does it impact you today?

Also, please share your questions in this area. I can’t answer them all in the comments, but I will be reviewing each one individually and will be crafting a future Q&A post based on your questions and input.

With so much love and pleasure,

mama-gena-sig-180px

EXPLORE THESE AREAS:

Mama Gena’s

Five-day Self-love
Mini-course

A free journey to awakening your most confident, radiant self.

Take the School of Womanly Arts free Five-day Self-love Mini-course and learn 5 specific daily practices you can use (and Mama Gena uses herself) to shift the reality of your everyday life … even with a demanding career, while raising kids, or when you’re incredibly busy.

UP