Skip to main content

Don't Avoid Eye Contact

I've been feeling extreme gratitude for my journey. I spoke to a friend about making intimate eye contact with yourself recently (yes, I know this sounds crazy). She said that sometimes staring into her eyes in the mirror gives her panic attacks...when she stated this I was overwhelmed with empathy and understanding. Only about a year ago when I was smothered in this self-love journey I would try and stare into my soul in the mirror and always end up on the floor hyperventilating and sobbing, scared of what I would see. Scared of who would be looking back at me. I was in such a fragile place in those months, unsure of who I was, and terrified to find out. Terrified to reach into my soul and forgive and heal the pain and wounds that were twisted into me.

When you think about it we very rarely make eye contact with ourselves. We know the power of eye contact in relationships with others, the eyes are the mirror to the soul. But it's "weird" to just stare into your own eyes. We are all so scared to find out who is in there, we are scared to create that true relationship with ourselves. When we make and hold that eye contact we are feeling pure vulnerability, facing our shame, and our insecurities. But also that is where our compassion, empathy, and self-love lies. Strength comes from the mix of all of our sides.

I still do this, though thankfully it no longer makes me freak the hell out. I challenge myself to do it when I know I'm being cruel to myself, or it's been a rough day, and it usually creates nothing but compassion and love for my soul. Knowing that I have that relationship rooted inside of me makes my days way easier. I have created a relationship with my heart, mind, and soul and I love her. I love myself. It's been painful and scary, we've faced a lot. But I'm here now and continually moving forward. It's a never ending process, but I am on the path; or at least I can see behind me clearly and learn from it, and also keep reaching forward with truth and hope.


Stare into your eyes, be intimate with your soul. This is where healing will occur.

Trust me, it's uncomfortable and strange as hell. But it's also powerful and life-changing.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Prompt: The Monster Behind the Mask

  For 12 months we tried to fight the cloth tied over our face Begging to be free, pleading for control back of our spaces When the days brought flowers again, the hope rose The belief was that normalcy would return We untied, dismantled, and tore off our masks  Jubilated to feel free of this grasp Instead, what was found was both desolate and perplexing Normal had nowhere to go Except back into our purposeless pit  The place that held who we believed we were and wanted to be Normal began to feel more like a fraud than a foundation Yes, our breathe could flow in and out of our inlet But still felt imprisoned in our cavity, so tight Relationship was rigid and stiff Both with ourselves and fellow peers Our feelings and tempers rioting inside Blurting out our inadequacies far and wide After 2 short moons  It was recommended to tie that cloth back to our faces Which we did in most places A feeling of ease at this cumbersome task  To keep the monster behind our mask

Lilac Sidewalk

  Same Sidewalk.  As Yesterday.  It catches you by surprise.   But today. They are here. Either smell or sight and you are called out. Silky petals. Our female elders peeking out with their violet irises The smell, oh the smell.  It swirls in your chest trying to coat your lungs, for just a little bit longer. Same Sidewalk. As Yesterday. You see the crispy. The sun held them just a little bit too long. Close enough, the smell sits still.  But the drops have drifted. Toasted and broiled. It’s gone so fast. Sad and True. I mourn for those that missed it. For those that will forget.  Same Sidewalk.  As Yesterday. Their abode remains season to season. Empty and forgotten Their graceful presence is now a brief memory. Every now and again, I remember what was once. And what will be again.

Prompt: The Dust of Old Bones

I am realizing that when given a prompt, I want to write anything and everything that comes to mind. I am beginning to explore prompts and this one is from a SLC Group called "Salty Scribblers" Deep in her closet a box lies, the dust has spread over the top and seeped to the sides. It has moved with her again and again, though only receives a hesitant glance now and then. But sometimes In her dreams she skips to it, excited to rummage through and release the treasures inside. As she peeks in, she sees distant memories, fervent feelings, and amusement of all kinds.  A Pink and worn Teddy Bear with arms open and a rainbow kite, ripped and bright.  A Snowman sits at the bottom, still frosty and needing a nose.  The scraped knees and rain puddles remind her of play. Some nights she takes one or two out and lays them on her sleeping self, testing the fit.  The beliefs are the hardest to fit.  Her parents know all and her sister protects no matter her own monster wall. When she kne