Integration

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As filled with chaos as my life has been this year…the sorrow, grief, loss, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and frustration…the one thing I always knew for certain was that something wonderful was taking place. I had no idea what the outcome would be…I still can’t say with certainty what the outcome will be. But, I’ve always known that life as I’ve previously known it was saying good-bye.

One amazing side effect of all of these shifts and changes in my life is that of integration. All of the pieces of myself that I’ve left in various places, with different people, kept hidden from certain groups of people…all of those pieces no longer wish to be separated or differentiated. It is time for all of them to come together in a unified human. Not in the old ways as the pieces once fit together, but rather, in a new unknown configuration. As each little piece falls into its perfect place, I watch in awe and amazement…acutely aware that some greater force is undoubtedly orchestrating this entire metamorphosistic process.

Last night, I realized that this blog is also asking for integration. I spent many hours trying to figure out how to keep this blog as it is…I like the safety…the anonymity…the premise…the wee collection of posts. Was I really ready to reveal myself to the world and let the world fully embrace all that I have to say and share with the world? The more I contemplated this, the more it became quite clear that despite the twinge of sadness, the answer was yes.

So, this will be my last post on this particular blog…to be continued in a new one that integrates all the different pieces of me in one place. Eventually, I hope to pull all of these posts over to the new blog so that there really is a continuity of experience for those who will need it in the future.

For you who have shared the journey of finding my voice and traversing the cocoon, thank you for your support and  companionship. I hope that, should you feel called to continue with me in this next phase of my life, you will join me at http://gyselagervais.wordpress.com.

With gratitude,
~Gysela

 

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Emergence

As one begins the process of emerging, one finds words again…able to organize thoughts into coherent lines…have a bit more energy…feel restless. By the end of June, everything is back online again…fully functional, even though I know things are different. It is as though I’ve been hiding in a cave for six months, and have just stepped out…blinded by the light…realizing loneliness…desiring connection with others.

Three weeks later, after practicing my new “feet” and “balance” in my new self, I set off on a month of adventures. I revisit old, familiar places…finding pieces of myself from 10 years ago that I have left behind. I meet, talk, and commune with people…some of whom I haven’t seen in over 10 years…some of whom live many states away and hadn’t planned to see me. Again, I see myself reflected back to me in new ways. Old stories challenged. Old memories challenged. Nothing is quite like I remember it, and yet…I am still there…left behind like a hidden, shameful secret. Professionally, I learn new skills, confronting and pushing through barriers I didn’t know I held for myself. My temporary colleagues reflect back to me my confidence and competence…my passion and my sensitivity, and again, I pick up pieces of myself that I had forgotten even existed.

As the pieces keep coming back to me, my internal peace increases. Where once I would have been terrified to be seen fully and completely for who I am, I gradually begin to realize the safety that exists within me. As internal safety increases, my confidence increases…with startling reactions. People flock to me. They share their souls’ yearnings and dark questions…as though I somehow have answers for them. Of course I don’t. All I can offer is the assurance of safety in pursuing individual paths by staying internally connected. By the time I leave two weeks later, my heart overflows with an abundance of love, joy, and gratitude for the blessings that consume me.

A week later, I journey to another place for a few days. Again, I am confronted with pieces of myself in places with old family history. Grandparent history and family culture history. I see family patterns and stories in new ways, and see my child self in a new light…and I am filled with compassion for her. Again, stories are rewritten…and my place and purpose changes. Again, as my pieces come home, I am startled at the response…an unknown woman stops her truck, rolls down her window, stares at me in awe, and finally tells me that I look absolutely stunning…wishing she could tell me specifically why.

A few days later, I travel to another state. For the first time, I’m completely unorganized and unprepared for a trip. I barely make the airport shuttle and am completely rattled by the time I sit down. As I go within, seeking calmness, I discover an incredible amount of love and compassion. I choose to just sit in that space the entire trip to the airport. Once there, and easily through security, I discover that the flight is delayed. Mildly annoyed due to eagerness to reunite with family on the other end, I wander into a bookshop…always my first place of solace. I realize that I will be purchasing at least one book, so I consciously intend that only books with a life-long impact will make their way into my hands. I leave with the book “Aleph” by Paolo Cohelo.

As the flight takes off, I marvel at my surrounding companions. No one is quite together or controlled. Across the aisle is a tall, black, gay man, clearly terrified of flying, who retreats to a world of lyrically expressive rap…vocalized…volume increasing with his fear. Two rows back sits a family from India, the small boy addicted to kicking the seat in front of him. In between them is a father and son, connected to the mother and daughter sitting next to me. Because their children want the window seats, I’m in the middle of the passing of anything and everything between the two sides of the family. Behind me is a row of women who must have some sort of water issue, for there is rarely five minutes of time that passes without one of them exiting to the restroom…pulling my hair every time. In front of me is a young man, wearing role-playing clothes, a long ponytail and a choke collar. Next to him is a woman in her late sixties, clinging to her youth with her brightly and badly colored red hair, botched plastic surgery, and a smoker’s cough. In front of her is a young woman in her 30s, also embracing the goth culture, clearly smitten by the handsome 20-something Australian men to her left. In order to gain their attention, she puts on her massive headphones and starts to fully rock out in her seat…rarely does her derriere touch the seat for any length of time. Between songs, she turns to talk loudly to the young man in front of me, until he resorts to rocking in his seat…at which point, she talks to the red-haired woman. The Australian young men look around for another place to sit…trying not to panic because there are no other seats open on the flight. It is precisely at this moment, realizing that nowhere else on the plane is there a solitary twitch of movement, how fortunate I am. I’m surrounded by people fully embracing who they are and fully living in the moment. I’m surrounded by people who are unafraid to connect with those around them…creating a network…a web of memories that no one else in the plane will experience.

As the week unfolds, the plane’s lessons stay with me. In the gift of the web of connection with my chosen family…all strongly and beautifully flawed, completely open in brutal honesty…I again discover pieces of myself. Pieces that I’ve left with them…in stories we share…stories¬†that we now realize we want to rewrite. So we do. We recreate ourselves and our web…piece by piece…into a strong foundation of a richer, deeper, more compassionate community.

On my last night of my adventures, exhausted with joy and memories and sorrow at separation, I read this in “Aleph”:

“I skim an article about Chinese bamboo. Apparently, once the seed has been sown, you see nothing for about five years, apart from a tiny shoot. All the growth takes place underground, where the complex root system reaching upward and outward is being established. Then, at the end of the fifth year, the bamboo suddenly shoots up to a height of twenty-five meters.”

I stop.

I realize, I’m completing my fifth year.

I’ve emerged and am reconnecting…preparing to shoot up twenty-five meters.

Stay in the flow…massive change is about to happen.

Trust.

Be Joyful.

Be Peace-filled.

Be Love-filled.

Be.

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