Sunday, July 19, 2015
Something inside me has finally shifted. A fundamental transformation of who I am seems to have reached a crucial milestone. I was aware of this internal shift throughout my day today.
While visiting the home of a friend (who hosted an anniversary party for a local club) I found myself unexpectedly marveling at the beauty of sunlight on water. This capacity to experience genuine wonder is something I would like to believe we are all imbued with by virtue of being human. Some of us are fortunate enough to have sufficiently safe, functional childhoods such that we can develop our capacity for curiosity and wonder in our earliest years. Some people are not so fortunate.
For those people like myself who fall into the latter category the discovery of experiencing unexpected wonder and joy later in life can be quite jarring. I know feeling joy in the experience of simple pleasures (such as the beauty of sunlight illuminating the world on a summer day) has often completely knocked me off kilter many times in the last two years. Feeling so present and carefree such that I could experience wonder has not been a real familiar experience. I don't think this is at all unusual if you have experienced an early life history that included feeling stalked by one of your own parents as I did.
In the nine days since I last took sertraline I have felt as if an immense cloud has been vaporizing. It feels different to experience the world from inside my own skull. And though I am skilled at writing and communicating I nonetheless struggle to articulate what it feels like to be me lately. It feels as if the very cells of my body are separating from one another. My inner world doesn't feel so...crowded. I have more space in my interior life. A crowd of sorrows is no longer consuming me. How normal can a person actually feel when a cloud of unhealed trauma that has long shadowed his life finally dissolves? I find myself asking that question a lot. Even after two years I still find myself asking that question.
During a walk I took late this afternoon I found myself consumed only with my appreciation of the present moment. I appreciated my ability to walk, the sunshine and wind on my face and the beauty of the green world around me.
Something inside me has finally shifted. A fundamental transformation of who I am seems to have reached a crucial milestone. I was aware of this internal shift throughout my day today.
While visiting the home of a friend (who hosted an anniversary party for a local club) I found myself unexpectedly marveling at the beauty of sunlight on water. This capacity to experience genuine wonder is something I would like to believe we are all imbued with by virtue of being human. Some of us are fortunate enough to have sufficiently safe, functional childhoods such that we can develop our capacity for curiosity and wonder in our earliest years. Some people are not so fortunate.
For those people like myself who fall into the latter category the discovery of experiencing unexpected wonder and joy later in life can be quite jarring. I know feeling joy in the experience of simple pleasures (such as the beauty of sunlight illuminating the world on a summer day) has often completely knocked me off kilter many times in the last two years. Feeling so present and carefree such that I could experience wonder has not been a real familiar experience. I don't think this is at all unusual if you have experienced an early life history that included feeling stalked by one of your own parents as I did.
In the nine days since I last took sertraline I have felt as if an immense cloud has been vaporizing. It feels different to experience the world from inside my own skull. And though I am skilled at writing and communicating I nonetheless struggle to articulate what it feels like to be me lately. It feels as if the very cells of my body are separating from one another. My inner world doesn't feel so...crowded. I have more space in my interior life. A crowd of sorrows is no longer consuming me. How normal can a person actually feel when a cloud of unhealed trauma that has long shadowed his life finally dissolves? I find myself asking that question a lot. Even after two years I still find myself asking that question.
During a walk I took late this afternoon I found myself consumed only with my appreciation of the present moment. I appreciated my ability to walk, the sunshine and wind on my face and the beauty of the green world around me.
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I invite you to accompany me as I document my own journey of healing. My blog is designed to offer inspiration and solace to others. If you find it of value I welcome you to share it with others. Aloha!