Dr. Liara Covert’s blog entry struck home today-- it reminded of my own daily work of reducing the number of tentacles of the past that grow every time I play my “story” in my head.
Transcending one's story has got to be one of the hardest things to do-- but I think it's KEY to becoming the true you. Daily I work to turn off the "tape" I've made for myself-- my losses, my wrongs, my pains, WHATEVER wrongs I perceive have been done to me, etc. It's like trying to eradicate a weed-- like trying to stop ivy from vining up and around a tree--ivy that bites into the bark and GROWS, if you don't keep cutting it back.
Yesterday I spent quite some time in the back yard, trying to free two young trees from the vines of wild ivy slowing snaking their collective path up the bark. Some of the vines were young, with fresh shoots, easy to pull off. Others had been growing for many, many years, and needed to be severed from the tree and ripped away with all the force I could muster. There is something enticing about that vine also-- about memories that vine their way into your truth, even if they aren’t true at all. There is something comforting, about being wrapped in all those tales we tell ourselves about our lives.
We, like the tree retain our form, but eventually all you can see is the story of what your parents did or didn’t do, what love you do or do not have, the job you had and lost, but none of that is really you-- just the wild ivy of the mind. The ivy covers up the true nature of you. Rip it down, yank it out, break the braids. It will grow back, when you’re feeling vulnerable-- the ivy will try to grow back when you feed it the fear that you ARE all those names and labels you have given yourself. Ivy is beautiful, and has its place-- on giant, old growth trees, on the ancient, shady walls of universities, but not on YOU.
To transcend my wounds, as Dr. Covert suggests, I’m going to gently remove the new growth that pops up when I’m feeling shaky, and rip to shreds the old growth that continues to tie me up.