Posted by: scintillatingspeck | November 6, 2014

Hibernaculum.

These are dark times, my friend, when the world spins towards winter, in the gloaming of the year.  I’ve been experiencing some fierce emotional pains of late.  The season reminds me, in its softly graying clothes, that curling up like a somnolent squirrel is entirely appropriate.

The sore vortices strike suddenly.  Sometimes they are breath-takingly awful.  There’s no hope of normal sleep when your internal landscape is wracked by hurricane winds.  I’ve been tracking them, though, trying to predict what sets them off, trying to excavate little underground storm shelters, lining them with downy vows of self-love.  I prepare caches of sustenance: signing up for a peer counseling workshop, ordering a light box, promising myself all sorts of recalibration.

I have been taking a break from Facebook, which is no small thing for a certifiable addict.  It was a bit terrifying for the first few hours, a few days ago.  It seemed clear, however, that spending time on Facebook was accentuating the pains, bruising me further; I was also afraid of experiencing an onslaught of added isolation by withdrawing from a familiar “place.”  The pains are, invariably, centered around disconnection.  I can say with some confidence, though, that stepping away from Facebook appears to be beneficial to me.  It’s allowing me to gather up some of my fragmented concentration and refocus on matters of great urgency, beginning with the basics of self-care.  It’s allowing me to get perspective, slowly, on intimacy, what it is and what it isn’t, and I remember: I don’t have to “perform” in front of an audience all the time.  I don’t have to make myself that vulnerable, especially in the midst of the Pains.  I can spiral gently around myself, in my hibernaculum.  It doesn’t mean I’ll be abandoned and alone; it means I don’t want the loneliness of crowds.  It means I must narrow my circle of people into the dimensions of a womb.

May we burrow into our nests wherever they may be found, loves.  May we ride out the storms on deep breaths and the solace of familiar, warm bodies, in flesh or in memory.

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Responses

  1. Lovely as always, my dear. May your winter’s rest be restorative.

  2. I have lived by much more gentle rhythms of seasons for so long that I think it may be time for me to feel them fully.

  3. (((Jen)))

    My previous comment from last night was eaten by the wordpress authentication exchange.

    Save those nuts for your workshop coming up soon…. I’m hopeful to remain in your circle.

    Intimacy, to me, first involves attachment concepts. We all instinctively attach, first to our parents, especially mom. When we can’t have a stable connection, we turn to our peers. Identifying an attachment sometimes comes from the way we treat those we aren’t attached, as in bullying, not wanting to be touched, etc. It also shows up as mimicking and taking sudden new interests that a person’s beloved represents, needing physical touch, etc.

    Attachments can be like being led around on a leash. In the hands of a stable adult, this tends to be directed towards inner development, emotional, morality, life skills, etc. In stable relationships, one partner can “challenge” another to develop a skill or whatnot being a better version of who they happen to be, and vice verse, always moving in both directions so the whole is more than the two(or more in your case) on their own.

    Unstable attachments, it’s like one doesn’t understand they’re dragging the other through their baggage. Being stuck in a cage for long periods can leave us a little nutty, as happens to any confined animal. Attachments are that fascinating, and important to become aware of their existence. Once aware of an unstable attachment, we effectively become the parent in the relationship, requiring a “loving detachment”, not unlike the patient parent of an over tired toddler, or having to watch a child come in last in a race because they didn’t take preparation seriously enough.

    It’s important for someone to take care of us all once in a while. We can all be the child sometimes, or the parent. When we connect truly though, then it’s a matter of knowing each others inner workings more and more, rising to challenges, … intimacy. Hard to explain from here, but we sure know when we are safe being with one another. No judgement, just pure acceptance and desire to have that connection in all the forms it takes. It’s like a dance.

    -Sean.

  4. Hi Jen, Think I will try calling, or rather invite you to call me, I just read an astounding book which I wanted to share with you! Private info. Patricia.


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