A confession - working through the sacral chakra
- leilak73
- Feb 9, 2015
- 5 min read
This past week I have had particular trouble (i.e. more than usual) with this chakra - and indeed, this blog. Every time I tried to sit down, or do some research for this article, I became engrossed in analysing my own life.
Several days ago I had an IUCD (intra uterine copper device) inserted – a long term form of contraception. As the name suggests, it is placed inside the uterus, smack bang where the second chakra lies. As I had no desire to flood my body with hormones for the next few years, this was the best alternative I could find. It wasn't until afterwards that I considered that placing a foreign body right in the midst of svadhisthana may have some effects on it. Oh man! >.<
And did it. It's like stirring up a muddy pond. Suddenly I had all these crazy thoughts and emotions welling up from somewhere deep inside me, in addition to the physical cramps. I felt upset, confused, guilty, displaced, angry. Things from a couple of years ago rose up to taunt me, things that I thought that I had dealt with. Apparently, I had managed to ferret some things deeper than I'd thought. My ability to hide things away from myself is somewhat incredulous. -.-
I spent several days moping about, feeling sorry for myself, wanting to blame somebody for the way that I was feeling (and all the ways that I wasn't feeling, but I knew that I should). I also knew exactly who I wanted to blame, yet when the time came, I just couldn't do it. I knew that this was not the right person to blame, and if I had anyone to blame for the way that I was feeling, it was me.
It was time to face up to the fact that I had been unconsciously blaming myself for the pain that the other person had gone through, even though that was a direct result of their choices. As a consequence of those choices, I had had to make certain choices for myself. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, no matter how much (or for how long) it hurts. And sometimes, we make choices because we fear being hurt again (because we want to move away from pain). We find ways to safeguard ourselves against future pains, even though we may not consciously realise it.
I went further, deeper into myself, trying to determine then what the root cause of this habitual pattern was (because surely it did not suddenly develop when I was 23 years old). I reflected on the relationships I have with others – my friends and my family. I do not always treat them as I would like to (and thus feel ashamed and/or guilty). At times, I lack compassion and empathy. I may see and understand that they are in a tough situation or are feeling down, yet I feel nothing. Or it is very difficult for me to try and be sympathetic, or even to show concern or loving support. Why am I like this? (In my head it translates as “What the hell I wrong with me?”) What blocks me from being naturally human, from giving them a hug and telling them that I love them and I'm here for them?
So I went back to my childhood (where these kinds of deeply-rooted issues tend to occur). When I was about 8 years old, the closest relationship that I had to a best friend ended abruptly. My friend died from leukaemia, a type of blood cancer. In the years following her death, I went through my “teenage angst years”. I was stroppy, moody, difficult to be around. I had trouble making and keeping friends.
I buried myself in the fantasy world of fiction books. It was my refuge. I became further withdrawn from my peers and my family. It wasn't until I was 18 that I finally made friends that I could really call my best friends – best friends that I still have today (and oh, how I am grateful to them for being there for me and putting up with me all this time!). It wasn't until recently that my mom realised that my friend's death had had such a deep and lasting impact on me. Truth be told, neither did I.
And yet, it really did have a deep impact on me. So much so, that I feared getting close to anyone, or anyone getting close to me. As a child, I feared that loss, being hurt so deeply. And so I kept everyone at bay. At that age, I couldn't deal with everything that had happened, all the emotions, so I pushed it away and locked it deep inside myself. It was my coping mechanism, as was delving into the fantasy world of fiction. As I grew up, my love for books remained strong. So did my coping mechanism of keeping people away. I wore masks for each different person, or group of people that I was around. I wanted to belong, yet I stuck out like a sore thumb.
So it continued. Eventually people came to accept me as they saw me. Still, I wore the masks. For each person, a different mask. I chose to reveal only certain parts of myself to particular people. In that way, nobody knew me fully, nor could anyone hurt me so deeply (or so I thought).
However, life doesn't work that way. It will find a way around all the defences that you can erect. I have managed to dissociate myself so much from everyone else (including myself), that I don't even know what lies beneath the masks anymore. Often, I don't know who I really am, what it is that makes “me”, me. I struggle to identify thoughts, emotions. My opinion of things is vague, at best. No wonder I struggle to be compassionate towards others. I've numbed myself through almost completely; so much that I lack the vigour to live and lack the excitement for, well, anything.
So began the work of combing through the repressed emotions, massaging the thoughts (and muscles!) and reprogramming years of defence mechanisms. Being more gentle with myself, nurturing myself, working with the chakra, accepting the blame, letting go of guilt, shame, resentment and anger. Moving, physically assisting the blocked emotions to move out of my system. Wearing orange, meditating and re-establishing the connection with my second chakra. Talking to people that I felt I had lost connection with, and re-establishing those connections helped too. Forgiving myself is the hardest part.
In a way, I'm glad for physically disrupting svadhisthana. It has forced me to deal with these repressed emotions; to help clean out the junk drawer of my life. We, as humans, tend to store emotions and things we don't want to deal with in our hips. And oh boy, I've been having pain in my hips. I try to stretch them out every day, do exercises to strengthen them and set the intention to let go of whatever it is that I'm holding onto. Day by day, I have been feeling an improvement. I am feeling more sure of myself and consciously allowing for joy, creativity and happiness into my life. (Co-incidentally – or maybe not - my second name is Joy. I hated it as a kid. Perhaps now is the time to start embracing the fact that I am, indeed, the embodiment of joy). No doubt that I have a lot more work to do, but I feel that a lot has been done already. And for now, that is enough.
Namaste.
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