Transformation is not necessarily a pleasant process.
Of course, there are the golden nuggets of awareness and a whiff of a kind of freedom that can be experienced along the path of transformation.
The cold hard reality, however, is that there is always a letting go that’s required – a kind of death, or many deaths, which are necessitated.

Sometimes it feels like the death of something that you didn’t realize was there inside. A small surrender can often reveal a scar which then gets picked and plucked from the skin where it was holding a bunch of old patterns together, to keep things moving along, even in their crooked way.

My body seems intent on going into the deep dark spaces and waking them up. Dragons which don’t like to be disturbed, happy to be part of the structure on which this life has been built.

Sorry, dragons, your time is up. The windows are opening and we’re asking you to fly away. Oh, and you can take your guarded treasure with you.

Now that can be painful.
You know that picking a scar is painful. You know that pulling a bandaid off is not a lovely experience. But you can’t keep that thing stuck and dry forever.

Well, you can. There are consequences, however.

In my case, the body is done with those consequences.

Pick the scab off, reignite the healing process, awaken the pain, and begin to mobilize a piece that has been kept in the dark.

This is what I’m physically experiencing now, as my body treats old patterns which were stuck in the biomechanics, and moves into places where a conscious control mechanism was long ago established in order to not venture into the dragon’s lair of pain.

I have moments where I experience a newfound freedom – that scent of something possible that wasn’t before. Or actually, that hasn’t been possible for a very long time, but was part of my original biomechanical blueprint.

For the first time I can remember, my belly is relaxing. It’s not holding on to every moment, controlling and in effect inhibiting every movement. It’s relearning its responsiveness to the forces. It’s allowing my pelvis and shoulder girdles to begin to draw their infinity signs as I take each step. And give my head a floating freedom to look about lightly as I walk.

Then there are days where there is pain. I’m living through spasms, tissue contracting and releasing, exhaustion, and a lot of emotional energy and tears.

It is quite evident to me that this physical transformation is coupled with a transformation of my whole being, on many energetic levels at the same time.

My Kuk Sool teacher some years ago would talk to me about this parallel process. When you work yourself physically, you work the emotional and mental aspects as well. At the time, none of that made sense to me. I was all in pieces and my body was just a slab of meat that I used in order to move my confused mind from place to place and have experiences.

How could I not have seen?
It’s incredible to me to recognize the blindness of that time of my life now that my experience is all about that kind of physical, emotional, mental transformation.

I’m a witness to a process which I could never have consciously initiated. This body is traveling into the dark places – the blind spots – and is shining light there. Dragons, awake! Fly away!

It’s a shocking initiation into the innocence of my individual spirit, buried under layers of who I think I thought I was.

Often I can’t sleep, as those are the moments the nervous system goes into recalibration of center and joint alignment.

It’s a beautiful unconscious creative process and yet I’m so sad.

So full of melancholy at the moment.

Feeling so insignificant and uncertain about everything.

Where is my center?

The old one has disappeared and the new one is recalibrating daily as it emerges into a mobile stability.

All I seem able to do is let my breath out and wait for another to enter.