Updated: Jun 3, 2020
I might have figured something out. The reason people tell me I'm "paranoid," "need to calm down," "need to trust," "have faith," or "let it go" when I ask questions has nothing to do with ME. Nothing. I'm not stupid or missing something. (Well, not in the instances I'm thinking about at least. I do miss a lot of stuff being human and all.) I'm certainly not paranoid. If anything I'm not allowing myself to be scared and angry enough.
I naturally come with a desire to get to the roots. To understand the origins. The connections. When I can see the beginnings I can see more possibilities and options. That's what grounding and trauma work offers me. The deeper I go the more magnificent the outcome and higher I fly. Curiosity is the most hopeful avenue of learning I've experienced so far.
When I'm being hurt, or see someone else being hurt, I want to know why. What's causing it? Let's address that because I don't want to be hurt again. I don't want others to hurt either. Seems prudent to me? Seems like the smartest option available, actually.
The more root systems I see the more I don't want any of us to hurt again. There is so much pain in the depths as some of us are forced underground and most of us wither with no understanding of how all of our parts work together or how to access our roots at all.
Most people want to stay above ground. They don't want to get into the dirt with the centipedes and moles. I get it. It can get scary in there. My questions, no matter how silly, are my tools of understanding. I guess one could argue that that's the point of all questions but it's not. Not at the heart of it, at least. Some questions lead. Some violently demand carefully curated responses. All questions definitely have destinations. I'm learning to be more open to where the question leads me and to recognize the ones that limit growth and do harm.
For decades I only asked the questions that would lead me to uphold my abuse, to excuse my abusers, and keep me trapped in unhealthy situations and relationships. Those were the only safe questions to ask. Digging deeper exposed it all and unfortunately that led to further violence. I learned to stay superficial. Play with grass and rolly-pollys. Gotta be careful which rocks you pick up though. Some of them hold memories of the underworld that awaken your desire to return.
Looking skyward was too painful. Turns out when there's no root access there also is no means of reaching the endless possibilities of 'out there.' There's no nest to leave from or return to. Stuck. Disconnected and confused. Being told to dream and explore but your roots have turned into strangling vines and there's no use in trying because you couldn't reach it if you wanted to. You wouldn't know how to begin. Only having ever tried pulling at them, they became an anchor that needs to be released, relinquished, and banished (a source of deep shame) instead of a well of safety, growth, and healing that will finally breathe life into the darkness and bring the balance you've been craving.
Tending to my roots (which meant first acknowledging them) I finally saw the boots that were crushing my every attempt at growth. The angry fingers that snuffed out any flicker of light. Breathing into and expanding my reach down exposed the patterns. The stronger my roots the more choices I have. The stronger my roots the more connected I can be. When I connect to my roots I connect wholly and fully.
I don't blame people for wanting and/or needing to stay superficial. Most of us don't have much of a choice. Maybe it would help to remember where earth's power of creation go when the wind rips apart, the floods drown, and the fire scorches. To the roots. The core. The depths of creation. We belong to that as well. We are creation. What will we create?