The dream of launching this blog to inspire fellow trauma survivors (AKA Superheroes) has been my Holy Grail since having the courage to leave my husband cost me all I treasured in this world: my children. While the pursuit of this dream has been my raison d’être, it has at the same time challenged me to be courageous, authentic and fully present as I seek to comprehend and heal from a lifetime of trauma. It is my heart’s greatest desire that in having the courage to share my story, I can provide hope and inspiration to others on their own healing journey.
Crying on the bathroom floor
There are two songs by the girl band Muna that have profound personal significance to me. Muna, who’s music I regularly played on repeat during the nightmarish final months of my twenty year marriage, was performing at a small San Diego University nightclub shortly after I filed for divorce. As we were still living together, I politely invited my soon-to-be ex husband to join me. He politely declined, and I courageously went to the concert on my own. I sang and danced my heart out with the college age audience as I allowed the living versions of my survival anthems to resonate through my body. No one rolled their eyes. No one laughed with derision. No one stood next to me in silent judgement that made my enthusiasm feel somehow inappropriate. I was free to be… Me!
As I danced to my car alone after the concert, I felt a surge of ecstatic freedom. The lyrics of two Muna songs encapsulated the journey I had traversed to arrive at this place. Lying on the Bathroom Floor was my anthem one year earlier when I spent many nights sobbing myself to sleep on the cold tile floor of our downstairs bathroom as my husband and daughters slept peacefully in their beds. Since DH locked me in the psyche ward the song Loud Speaker had become the anthem that guided me towards bravery, that gave me permission to scream my truth even if it cost me everything. The song that helped me understand I was NOT alone in my anguish. There were so many others screaming “Me TOO!” And it was up to me to go out and find them.
Since that night I have been burned down and reborn more times than I can count. I have learned that there is beauty and life in death, that I am and have always been exactly where I need to be, and that I can choose not to live according to Capitalism’s myths of shame and scarcity. This myth was the Siren’s song of the man I fell in love with, the father of my children, the best friend who took vows to love, honor, and cherish me. This is the myth that conditioned him to hoard, lie and manipulate. This is the myth that burned down my world, and I am on a mission of vengeance.
Faith in scarcity has destroyed enough lives, enough relationships, enough childhoods. It’s time for us all to take a unified stand against the toxic modern day myth that pits us against one another. So if you will, I invite you on a philosophical stroll through the relationship between The Scarcity Myth and the very way we breath.
Why too much is never enough
Contrary to the western capitalistic faith in a ruthless, unforgiving world of unavoidable competition for scarce resources, when we scientifically examine the most fundamental act of human life, breathing, we witness that nature is subtle, efficient, cooperative, and generous. The experiments documented by James Nestor in his groundbreaking book Breath prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that “breathing slow, less and through the nose, balances the levels of respiratory gases in the body and sends the maximum amount of oxygen to the maximum amount of tissues so that our cells have the maximum amount of electron reactivity.” In other words, the simple act of training yourself to breathe slowly through your nose can cut total exertion in half and offer exponential gains in physical, mental and emotional endurance. What would you do with all that extra energy?
Nestor’s research proves that gasping for air deprives our bodies of oxygen in the same way that grasping for money, love, sex, or anything else we use and hoard to excess poisons our souls. It may not kill us outright. But it will make us sick as hell.
Our heart’s longing for the harmonious, effortless balance that is our birthright is a whisper that too often goes unheard as we busy ourselves fighting imaginary battles and hoarding our looted treasures of time, money, possessions, status, “love” and respect. Present Moment Living requires and teaches us to forget what we have “lost,” disengage from what we “want,” and fully acknowledge the reality of abundance that is available, always and only in this moment. The only one there is.