Thursday, March 3, 2011
There is nothing like a good bloodletting.
Now, I know that the practice of bloodletting is for the most part considered non-beneficial, yet I have tried it in the past. Years ago I suffered from serious back problems, and at the time was trying every conceivable treatment. One practitioner I was seeing for acupuncture offered this as one type of intervention. It was actually a very cool experience. No, I didn't open a large vein and just bleed out, he simply made slight cuts at the back of my legs to let some of the toxins drain from my system.
Sometimes I look at my writing as a bit of a bloodletting. These past few days have been what I would consider dark and infectious. I had been feeling so blue, and not knowing how to pull myself out of it, I chose to do what usually works best for me. I allowed myself to go deep within myself, and to be honest with myself, honest with you, about the depths of my grief burdened thoughts and feelings.
When I find myself in this type of familiar territory, I know that one thing that can turn things around is to get back to my writing. It allows me to make slight cuts into my psyche, and allows me to slowly bleed out all my emotional toxins. Are they completely gone? Of course not, but my mood, and my ability to function, have been given a reprieve.
There was definitely a lightness about my day. I felt much more connected to the people around me. I was able to see the sun up in the sky, and feel a sense of appreciation. I was able to seek out conversation with people that feed my soul. As I relaxed here at home I could feel myself wanting to fall back into that murky place, but I resisted, and decided to keep the connection going. Tonight, that connection is a collective you.
If you are reading, you are feeding me.
If you are reading, you are instrumental in cutting through that thick layer of grief that can weigh me down.
If you are reading, you are considered a companion who walks beside me.
I thank you.