Nakedness

The leap is already made.

I’m already in the birth canal. There is no going back.

I’ve spent years looking at this direction and choosing not to go. Choosing confusion over the other options.

I see I am free from confusion now, there is no more of that static. The step has been taken. I see I have already made the leap. The pain is my body is catching up?

Still though I feel fear. I have a few visuals that come up. There is the little girl digging her heels into the ground, ‘I don’t want to’, resistance to moving forward. It creates real pain. When I’m asked to describe the feeling it’s an extreme version of vulnerability. An unbearable nakedness. It’s a pressure on my chest I strain to push off. It’s a stark empty white room where you can’t tell where the walls end and the floor begins. It’s cold and scary. There is great risk being naked here. It’s uncomfortable. There is also great risk in opening the door and stepping out. There is responsibility there.

Afraid of being poked at, being seen, being ‘caught’ for being myself, being laughed at. Afraid of being seen and wanting to be seen both. Isn’t that all of us?

I imagine my biggest critics reading this. Rolling their eyes. Scoffing. One of my biggest critics is definitely in my own head. ‘You can’t do this.’ ‘Who do you think you are?’ blah blah. Oh well. Screw the critics. I’m stepping out.

I’ve been working on this visual for years. I see the seal of the door. I have the energy. I am rested and ready. I walk tall. Comfortable in my skin. My warmth comes from a strong internal flame. I open the door and see the green and other bright colours of nature. It’s a beautiful summer meadow, surrounded by a mixed forest and beyond that a stream babbling over a small jumpable rapids that feeds into a lake. It’s all there. I step in.