Bittersweet ~ Authentic ~ Inspiring
zina mercil
  • Home
  • About
  • Blog
  • #JazzHands
  • Psychotherapy
    • Theoretical Orientation
    • Modalities
    • Professional Identity
    • Diversity, Inclusivity, Community
    • Contemplative Practice
    • Where's my Practice?
  • Speaking
    • Speaking Engagements
  • Contact

Endings.

9/3/2016

8 Comments

 
I don’t want to write this. I have the title at the top of my page and stare at it blankly each time I open up my computer, refusing to type a word. Ending. Yuck.
 
I’ve been wrapped up, consumed, overwhelmed with transition, completion, saying goodbye. I’m terrified and sad.
 
I just keep soothing myself; my adult self telling my scared child self that I’m going to be okay.
 
It’s dry and warm. I can feel my lower lip slightly chapped, as I wet it with my tongue. I am the last one to board the plane, my feet feel like lead as the slowly carry me forward, my breath is a mystery. I sit in my seat, hot, cold, not sure. My body remembers this feeling, it is the same before every medical procedure, every potentially challenging conversation, every final _________ . The anticipation of the unknown.
 
I call my Mom… she’s emotionally stranded in the main terminal, not able to leave either. I’ll be the one who has to leave. I’m always the one who leaves… an interesting role I’ve chosen.
 
The plane takes off and tears roll down my face. I don’t wear sunglasses. People in community can learn to tolerate the discomfort of emotion. I’m trying to do so with my own. This feeling of crying without anyone noticing or responding feels familiar.
 
I have gone through major transitions before in my life, many times actually. Many big moves, endings of relationships, and new adventures. This is different. Exhale. Tear. Because this time I’m feeling. In the past I stuffed down my emotions, pushed them forcefully away without even knowing I was doing it. I’m pretty sure I would have imploded at the time if I hadn’t. Our bodies are smart.
 
But now, apparently I have “skills” and can handle the gut-wrenching feelings associated with the grief and loss of saying goodbye to the world as I know it. To choose on purpose to shake up my life and delve into the unfamiliar in hopes of health and impact. Of staying awake and feeling through it all, because this is human. The pain at razor’s edge with the excitement and potential of what it will be like to step off this airplane and be bombarded with humidity, plumaria, and salt-water.
 
And I want you to know, that I will miss you. That you have changed me by being my friend, my inspiration, my reader, my illness, my hard mountain earth. That now our relationship will change because we are constantly becoming different people, and my life experiences are about to be vastly altered. And I have so much sadness, as well as so much excitement for what that will look like! 
 
We want to go unconscious during the ending, but this is the time to feel our humanity. The suffering and the joy only exist because of each other.

Wishing you all the gift of feeling through the many endings. It's worth it, to create space for the beginnings. Exhale.
8 Comments

Naked.

4/8/2016

0 Comments

 
To share or not to share, that is the question.
 
Recently I’ve tried a little experiment with myself and my life. It’s called: being authentic, being genuine, being vulnerable, being raw. I’m committed to doing this in my closest relationships, professionally with ethical boundaries, and publically in service of normalizing other people’s experiences.
 
I have spent a lot of my life feeling up on some pedestal of projection that looks a lot like: She has her shit together. She achieves. She is healthy. She’s got a one-up in the world.
 
Why would I possibly want to mess with that? Why would I want to say pssst actually I’ve got some serious stuff going on over here. Especially when it’s about things that are invisible, and probably no one else would know unless I tell them?
 
Because this projection of shiny brightness is only partially true. There is truth to it, and that’s the other part I’m committed to: not minimizing my strength, empowerment, and potential in the world. I definitely have the intention of giving the middle finger to the cultural paradigm that we can’t fully expand into our greatness.
 
So here’s the paradox: How do I own where I’m messy, and also own where I shine brightly? And why does all of it feel so vulnerable to talk about?
 
Just recently I’ve been opening up about my physical illness, among other personal things. That’s all fine and good until I leave my house, and encounter real people, especially ones who may have read what I’ve written. Suddenly I feel, well, naked. Seen. And I wonder, am I strong enough for this? This quest of sharing my truth for my own and other’s healing. Isn’t it easier to just keep my mouth/laptop shut?
 
Because now there are conversations. Now I’m in relationship, and people feel invited in… and they are. It doesn’t stop in sharing a little tidbit, that just opens the door. But this is how we breakdown the massive perceived wall of our own and other’s isolation. Of thinking we don’t impact or affect of others. Of thinking that we’re not constantly in relationship.
 
It’s right to take it seriously. I have impact. We all do. And with impact comes responsibility. To be truthful, honest, and delicate with what we share. But also to not be afraid, when and if we’re ready, to share it. Because it matters. The conversations matter. Being extraordinary, and messy, matters. We owe it to each other to try being vulnerable and seen.
 

As Brene Brown (I feel super pop-psych culture quoting her, but frankly she’s fabulous), in her book Daring Greatly, talks about, we don’t want to vomit our unprocessed crap all over people and call it vulnerability, because it’s not (I may have paraphrased that a bit).  
 
So in an effort not to slime you, I check in with myself that sharing seems like the next step in our relationship. Because I want to start a conversation about our nakedness. I want to invite you in, cuddle you close, share s’mores around a campfire, and tell ghost stories about our own personal ghosts. Because chances are, our ghosts are actually dancing together, and maybe they’re not so scary afterall. But we don’t know, unless we share.
 
So here’s the deal:
When you get to a point of knowing there is something that seems like it must be shared with a friend, lover, partner, community, here's a couple questions you can ask yourself, like I do:
  • What will be the potential harm and benefit of me sharing this right now, both to me, and to who is listening (ie. What is the impact)?
  • Do I feel comfortable with this person/people knowing this about me, and that I will be seen/naked in this way?
  • Do I want to have a conversation and be more intimate in relationship around this topic?

What struggles/triumphs have you had sharing something vulnerable? Is it worth it? Comment below:
0 Comments

    Author

    Zina is a body-oriented psychotherapist, passionate about using her own experience of life-altering medical setbacks to inspire others to look at the meaning and interpretation of illness, and everyday life.

    ABOUT THIS BLOG

    Here’s the deal: I’m going to share parts of my experience, and you get to ask yourself the question “Does this feel true for me?” If it adds some humor, insight, or inspiration for your life situation, and I truly hope it does, then great! If it doesn’t, that’s okay too- just take what may be meaningful and let go of the rest. We’re both similar in our humanity, and unique in our experiences. There's room for it all. 
     
    (Though I am a LPCC therapist in the State of Colorado, this blog is not to be taken as direct mental health or medical advice. Please consult your mental health and/or medical professionals with any questions pertaining to your specific situation.)

    other blogs

    I also am honored to be a regular contributor for the following sites:

    Project Athena Foundation

    The Mighty 

    Archives

    November 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015

    Categories

    All
    Being
    Being Seen
    Be Real
    Birthday
    Breathe
    Busy
    Change
    Choice
    Data
    Dating
    Diagnosis
    Freedom
    Grief
    Hospital
    Human
    Identity
    Illness
    Inspiration
    #Jazzhands
    Mantra
    New Year
    Past
    Patterns
    Present
    Relationship
    Time
    Tough Times
    Vulnerable
    Who Am I Now?

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.