I’ve done a lot of work reframing my upsets and understanding the origins of my reactions and internal conflicts, and figuring out how to self-soothe rather than making it my career to enroll others into doing that job for me.
But even so, there’s this little luminous egg within me that feels so toxic, and in it are all the core reasons why I still don’t deserve to be free of my constraints and thrive inside a life that feels like a match for who I am.
It’s like a container of concentrated hurt and disappointment and low self-esteem. A serum of pain that’s been distilled over decades through understanding and awareness, but what remains is still so powerful that I can’t seem to figure out what to do with it other than be hurt by it.
It’s like a storage of radioactive waste from a power source that used to fuel me, and even though I am now fueled by a new more sustainable source, I must learn to coexist with this waste and be careful not to get too close to it.
I honestly can’t imagine there’s any more I can do about it except to treat that area tenderly. To plant hearty flowers around it. And put up signs that read Caution. Do Not Open. And keep my world going in the deliberate direction I’ve set out on.
Not everything can be fixed. Sometimes we have to live with the waste of old toxic experiences. But if we can identify these ingredients and keep them disposed of properly, over time, I believe they will lose their toxicity and become harmless.
-JLK
