Great Expectations

Monday, February 21, 2011

I have always been cautious.

The blessing and curse of the cautious child is observing others. We are Watchers, I think.

More than that, however, is that the watching distances us from people. When I can remove myself from the scenario and focus on you, my mind is occupied intellectually. I don't have to feel because I am wholly absorbed in the task of observing. I am comforted by understanding why others act the way they do, but at a distance.

On the rare occasions that I want to participate, want to interact, it is of prime concern to me that I am Chosen.

I must be Chosen.

If I am not chosen, then I should not invest my emotions in the relationship. Red sirens start swirling and the abandon ship horns begin to blow. I believe that there may be a small military voice yelling "Get out! Get out! Get out!" as he helicopter arms the path to the exit.

Last week in massage therapy, this is what was brought out. My left shoulder holds intense "stuff"... I do not kid. My massage therapist has to exert a tremendous amount of force on my body to get my energy moving. It would be comical if it was not my body that demanded this punishment to release the pain.

And still, I resist. It is Mine and I hold Onto it. A Two Year old with her blanket. While Adult Dawn comes to work this out of her body, to renew her energy for the next phase of her life, Petulant Toddler Dawn glares through lowered eyelashes.

My massage therapists has her elbow and knee in my shoulder as she moves the muscle. She asks "What IS This? What are you holding here?"

I do not answer at first. Not because I don't know, but because it sounds silly, juvenile.

"It's like there is a fence right HERE..." She emphasizes this by moving the ridge of accupressure point where I am blocked with her fingers. The exquisite. I am nearing the edge of what I can bear before I tell her to stop, but I wait, trying to control my breathing - blowing it out, blowing it out.

"And you keep jumping on one side of the fence and then the other, one then the other... You've got to Choose Dawn. Make a Choice! Why can't you make a Choice? This sitting on the fence is ripping your body to shreds!"

The tears jumble with the words, released all in one great rush:

"I can't choose because I wasn't Chosen."

My need to be Chosen has so tightly bound itself around me that I am paralyzed, continually inhaling, while the need wraps itself tighter and tighter around me. I am left cut off from my own body, starved of oxygen.

As someone who prides herself on being self aware, it is moments of revelation such as this which leave me breathless and shaken.

As she pushes the energy down through my back she reminds me that I can not control the choices of others. No matter how I stomp or glare or hold my breath until the world sees that I am RIGHT, I can not bend others to my will. However, my choices are equally my own and not dependent on the reciprocity that I have always deemed essential.

That my choices are my own, but must be made without Expectations. I should not choose only because I expected or needed to get something in return, but simply because it was my choice.

The days since that massage have been revelatory. I practice - Hard - with this idea. To live your life without expectation is perhaps the most challenging idea I have undertaken, but one that found me at exactly the right moment.

2 Baleful Regards:

SUEB0B said...

Your masseuse sounds great. I don't think I've ever found anyone that perceptive.

I know what you mean about being Chosen. I get crazy when I am left out of anything, even things I don't actually want to do. Deep-seated insecurities, I have them.

Lisse said...

I have followed your blog off and on for a while. I just wanted to say that I loved this post and I totally get the Chosen thing.

I had to teach myself to talk about my goals without expecting that people would laugh at them.

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