As part of my series of posts about emotional awareness, I decided to write a piece about shame and guilt, difficult feelings to pick out and harder still to let go of. Last Monday, right when the Sun was entering Scorpio, I was confronted by a powerful memory that made me weep as inconsolably as I've ever wept, summoning an ache in my chest that I hadn't felt for a long time.
I've been having trouble getting a full, uninterrupted night's sleep for a few weeks now. I've had very active dreams and usually wake up between 3 and 4 AM to go to the bathroom. Part of it, I know, is the bed's mattress which I need to change, but there are other elements involved. I've had a sore throat for about a week now and during the weekend I spoke a lot, which didn't help. Now I have some cough and nasal congestion, but no fever at any moment. Fortunately, I don't often get sick and when I do, it's usually this mild version of a cold, not strong enough to prevent me from functioning normally, but bothersome enough to keep me up at night.
On Monday, however, it was emotion that woke me. Since I couldn't go back to sleep for over thirty minutes, I decided to breathe and feel. That's when the image of an experience that I had back in 2008 came to me. I was working as an AutoCAD designer for an engineering company located less than two blocks from where I'm currently living, a job where I learned a lot but also was exploited rather heavily. That day, in fact, we had to work overnight because the company had to deliver a set of plans for the reconditioning of an electrical substation that week (due dates stipulated by the bosses, not the clients,) but we only learned that we'd have to stay late as the day progressed. At around midday, one of my bosses approached the window beside our desk and drew our attention to a small bird who had gotten her left wing caught in a thread tangled around an electrical cable. She was desperately fluttering her right wing to break free to no avail. Since that moment, my attention was divided between the designs I had on my screen, conversations I had on MSN Messenger and that poor creature fighting to live.
For hours, my eyes drifted to the window to watch as the bird expended all her energies in vain. I could feel the hope draining out of her, her right wing losing speed and strength. She was increasingly immobile as sunlight diminished, swaying in the breeze, exhausted, agonizing. I was also agonizing within, trying my best to focus on my job while grieving for the creature... and for myself. I felt like the bird was me and that job was like that tangled thread keeping me from joy. As night fell, the bird slowly faded from view, a shadow amidst darker shadows, but I still could feel her life force dwindling. I found myself trying to make out her silhouette, a thought persistent in my mind: I hadn't gone out, I hadn't tried to do anything for that poor animal. It didn't matter that I knew I could do nothing, that I was aware the cable was too high for me to reach and there was no instrument in the office that could enable me to help her, that I had my own prison to deal with at the moment. All of those things felt like excuses and the bottom line was that I just watched her die a long and painful death.
I was overwhelmed by that awareness. I had to let it out somehow and I couldn't do it with my workmate, much less my bosses, who were oblivious to the situation and what it meant for me, so I tried sharing it with someone whom I thought of as my friend back then, whom I considered empathetic enough to understand. Sadly, he just mocked me and I felt even worse.
That was the memory that assaulted me early on Monday, catching me completely by surprise. I hadn't thought of that bird for years and yet, there it was, the pain vivid and the sadness deep. I cried, and as I cried, I thought of Max, my sister's dog, and the way she treats him as I stand by, incapable of intervening without causing a greater problem at home; the dog's big, gentle eyes reflected that dying bird back to me and, although I know his situation is far from the small tragedy I witnessed all those years ago, I felt the shame and the guilt all the same. I cried more, feeling the ache in my chest, and my mind perused the faces of people whom I was too arrogant, angry, ignorant or afraid to listen to. Old friends, strangers, families that once harbored me in their homes and with which I've grown distant or completely separated. People that I currently interact with and for whom I could be more present. Last Sunday, I encountered a hawker with his wife and girl, selling candy in the subway, and I was slightly bothered by their energy and attitude, though the girl's kind vibration balanced it somewhat. Later that day, also in the subway, I encountered a homeless guy taking a break from selling pens, the smell of him inevitably drifting to my nostrils in the hot enclosure of the wagon. Reviewing these and other experiences increased the sense of guilt and shame in me. Honestly, I felt like a hypocrite.
Who was I to judge those people based solely on how they talked, moved or smelled? What kind of a "spiritual servant" am I if I can't be present for everyone? I questioned myself harshly as I remembered that little bird and linked her with all of these other situations, all of these other souls. Finally, the tears stopped flowing, I said thanks and sleep came. Hours later, the symptoms of the cold became more pronounced, reaching a peak today. I still have some work to do with these sensations and I plan to use the coming Lunar Eclipse on Saturday for that. Also, I have a task set for Sunday morning, to accompany a friend to the beach to dispose of a set of cowries, seashells used for divination in the Yoruba tradition, which has accumulated some seriously dense energy. I will also bequeath my clay Runes, the first set I ever had, to a friend who asked for them, thus releasing that energy as well. No doubt all of these things are related.
This is what I do to explore my emotions and cleanse them, full exposure and expression. This very post is a part of the work and although I wrote it mostly to let out some steam, I do hope that it'll be useful for others who might stumble upon it. Thank you for reading!
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This is a beautiful sharing, dear @drrune - I feel so much for that wee bird, and for all the wee animals who get entangled in our technologies and our material world constructed to not be in tune with Nature.
Yes, guilt... It is such a powerful self-oppressor, self-police-ing tool. Clenching of the lower body and the tightening of heart and throat to self-expression.... I am working through the fullness of my voice right now too, and have lingering symptoms of very light influenza - but I can consciously clear it by sniffing purposefully and moving my body spontaneously, to keep things moving.
Verbal sharing has been so very important to my in my life - especially speaking up for those with less of a voice - or raising my voice on behalf of all of us... The mastery of this has been messy! Many aspects of our collective power, the collective just is rigidly resistent to, and I have struggled to find where is my place, that I can bridge the worlds: mostly I have pulled back, and am learning to use my voice in a more concentrated way, without the need to be heard and witnessed, which before kept me instead intruded-upon and uncomfortably exposed.
It is good to hear your experience of moving through these transformations: we have a lot to shift in our individual and our collective conscious, around shame, guilt: and it is one of the most liberating veils to fall!!
Yeah, we've made a world that is "convenient" for us (though that isn't necessarily true either) but has excluded other creatures in its workings. That's changing, fortunately, but the awareness of it must grow faster.
It's important that you mention the voice because that's most certainly one of the aspects that I'm working right now, likely the reason I got this mild cold. Also important that said that about being heard and witnessed. There's a quote from Rumi that I love: "I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think." In the context of this post, it's especially significant.
Thank you for your comment, dear!
Wow Javier, this post is so captivating, I was deeply moved reading it. Especially how you described the fate of that poor bird and your emotions about it, now and then.
Some emotions are easier to speak about and share, at least in my experience, but also because they are more socially accepted. Shame and guilt are challenging in so many ways and something that most people just keep to themselves.
Thank you for sharing in this vulnerable way 💚
Thank you so much for reading, my friend. Yes, it was and evidently continues to be a powerful and meaningful experience. Although I know I still have work to do regarding those feelings, I'm comfortable with being able to share these things openly here!