Abandonment Part 3: Fire and Pain
For years, my insides were like one big smoking heat sink, with small brush fires burning in selected locations and a few all out forest fires here and there. I would release the heat and the beauty of this fire through many forms of self expression. Music. Writing. Photography and film. And through simply being myself in the world.
I did all of of this often enough, as friends of mine will attest. But I didn’t do it all of the time. And I wasn’t sharing my fire with the the whole world. And I wanted to. I wanted to be myself, all the way, all of the time. I wanted to release this beautiful burning light to the entire world. Not just to people and situations that felt safe.
This went along with not showing all of myself in relationships. I never showed it all. I couldn’t be that vulnerable. I was too scared of getting hurt. What I did show was plenty, it seemed. I had many people in my life who knew me, and loved me, intimately and otherwise. And they always described me as unique. As out there. As deep. But I knew there was so much more inside of me that I wasn’t showing. There were depths to me that I dared not expose.
All I needed to release this internal fire and turn it into a blaze that would ignite my life was a gallon of napalm. Enter my last girlfriend. Principessa. She stirred my insides up just by being herself, and neither of us realized it. She unknowingly stoked this massive, smoldering, barely contained cauldron within me. Then out of nowhere, she dumped me. It took a few weeks for that to hit. On the outside, everything was relatively unchanged. On the inside, it was chaos. The best kind of chaos. The kind that changes you.
The pain of losing her triggered all of this other pain that I was storing inside of me. The pain, I’ve come to learn, was the napalm. The means for releasing all of myself had been within me the entire time. I just wasn’t able to access it. Her abandoning me put me in touch with that pain. All of it. KABOOM! My whole world was on fire. Burning with a reckless abandon the likes of which I could barely grasp.
Going through the pain released my fire. All of my creativity and imagination and passion and desire and hope. It’s all burning brightly. All of the time. And I’m living it.
That’s me now. My challenge is to let the fire burn with all of it’s brilliance and power and fury and passion and light, yet keep it harnessed for my highest purpose. Keeping it going is not an issue. There is more than enough fuel here to last my life time. And every moment that I live my life from my open heart, more fuel gets added. What to do with it all and how to do it is my challenge. And my life’s work.
This website is just one piece of it. I’ve been exploding all over my life.
And I will never again be so emotionally stingy. Whoever you are, if you want it, you are going to get all of me, all of the time, right from the get go. I’m not talking about inappropriately overwhelming anyone with how I feel or what I think. I’m talking about no longer hiding because I’m afraid of getting hurt. I’m talking about consciously aspiring at being 100% of myself 100% of the time. If you want to see me and hear me and know me and experience me and maybe even love me, I’m not going to shut you out. If you don’t want to know me, that’s fine. Don’t ask. But if you do, be careful for what you ask for. Because you are going to get it.
©2008 Clint Piatelli. All Rights (and Wrongs) Reserved.
Reader Comments (2)
Hi Clint, I particularly love this entry. Ever word makes sense. I believe there is a fire in all of us. Some of us chose to smoulder when others prefer to add fuel and flame it. What a great way to live! How else should we live? I think your thoughts are starting to stir up a few embers because there are a lot of things you write about that I have thought myself but were just afraid to admit it. What's the point of holding all of this love and appreciation in!? Need to find my own way of showing my light. Thank you for sharing and helping to flame the fire. Sincerely, Jules
"The essence of bravery is being without self-deception." - Pema Chodron from "The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times" (Shambala, Boston, 2002)
Julie, thank you so much for your words of love and support. Knowing that my writing has stirred something in you means so much to me. It's why I do this. To move people. To stir the emotional pot. To connect. And the pleasure of doing that is mine.
Clint