Let your altar take the weight

Two days ago I was doomscrolling like my life depended on it. Until I was late to pickup, and then I was driving like my life depended on it. But as soon as I got the chance, back on my phone I went.

This insatiable urge to be distracted by someone else’s problems is a tell for me to pay attention to what I’m avoiding. While some distractions can be beneficial, like sitting down with a book so that I will actually sit down for more than 5 minutes, losing 40 minutes at a time to the black hole of social media is not. After the second day of avoidance behaviors, it was time to gulp make space for the emotions.

I knew that this was a big one because a part of me was screaming inside that I couldn’t look, that I might die, that this was the end of my world. A big problem like this needed an altar, a sacred space to (as Karla says) disembody the emotions without dishonoring them. Ah yes, still scary, but at least I don’t have to carry them around with me anymore.

A space to hold my scary emotions

Sitting down and filling the bag full of scraps of paper with fear after fear scribbled on them felt cleansing, and eventually good. Not easy, but simple. I even came across some fears I didn’t know I had, which were valid points to consider.

This panic ritual didn’t come out of nowhere, although they can. This was in response to moving forward with a big dream I’ve had for years and am ready (eek!) to take action on. Along with the vision and excitement comes panxiety, confusion, and a good old freak out. An altar is the perfect place to hold all that emotion while I work out my priorities (thank you anger) and my capabilities (thank you shame).

Since it’s springtime and every green thing is shooting for the sky, I’ll be outside, shaping the growth into something I can work with, and letting my altar do the hard work of holding those essential emotions.