My stomach is in knots. All the anxiety and uncertainty, foreboding and worry I feel has nowhere to manifest it's nervous energy except in the pit of my stomach. I'm warm and out of breath. I can hardy focus my attention on anything, my mind being occupied with keeping this tension from pulling my muscles and organs apart inside this body.
I had almost forgotten how this feels, how it chases away all other sensation away like a tortured, rabid dog, starved for affection and comfort, willing to maim and devour anything nearby. I can feel my heart, not so much beating as it is striking against my ribcage in a seeming attempt to break out through the bars of it's cage.
She sounded nervous on the phone. She's been there for a couple of hours. He's been eyeing her body hungrily for at least that long. I can only imagine the depth of his desire for her flesh - she likes to play with fire. Getting burned has happened often enough to her that it's become an identifyable pattern. I can only Will, hope and pray that she comes back unscorched.
My emotions are mine. I have to seek to change how it feels. I can't expect "the outside" to avoid hurting me in this way, that's foolish. Running will only strengthen the anguish. God, I had forgotten how debilitating this is.
I can't overwhelm myself by thinking that's it's just begun - the first of 4 days (or worse, 3 nights). Stop it!
She told me weeks ago that this trip will not affect our relationship. I never asked her to make specific promises. If I had she would have told me what I wanted to hear regardless of what the actual plan may be. Even assuming she was truthful, plans change. That is something I've learned to expect with her - her word is based only on present emotions, when they shift (or reveal their true character) the plan may easily change.
I can only trust. I can't trust that she won't do something with him. I can't trust that she won't give him the opportunity to do something to her. I can't trust that he won't manufacture an opportunity to do something to her. I can only trust that this is the way it has to be, that this is the way Nature intended for it to be.
All experience is an opportunity to grow, learn and evolve. I have to seize my opportunities here, I must not only cope, but learn to redirect the incoming energy to my benefit. So easily said, yet so immensely daunting.
Something I've learned from art: Deep, nuanced blacks and lower grays provide the image with an enormous potential for contrast. A contrast that lends itself to a stark beauty, full of hues and values pregnant with depth and meaning.
When I set down to draw, I start with the darks. They define the composition and allow for the mental sensation of slowly and carefully "pulling" the image out of the bleakness and chaos. It's only dawned on me recently how symbolically important that process is to me.
Maybe I can understand more if I force myself to perform that symbolic action. Maybe that is my Magick. Perhaps that is my ritual incantation. All of this power and energy MUST go somewhere and if I don't use it for insight and spiritual evolution, it will fester and seep out through the cracks in the walls of my soul, the cracks which are my weaknesses; my drives to self-destruction and torment, self-pity and despair.
How can I avoid using the drawing process as a distraction? That is a question I have to give serious thought to. Right now I need fresh air, I'm starting to feel like I can't breathe again.
