09/10/2025
Every deep healing process is like retracing your own genesis.
You go willingly — head to head, heart to heart — with the forces that shaped you,
forces still present in your life, though now wearing different outfits.
This time, you are inside a grown-up body, inside a present moment,
inside a time that only flows forwards.
It is, in a way, the ultimate creative act —
a journey backwards while time moves forwards.
And every act of deep retracing demands space, time, and energy,
but life does not pause.
No one holds space for you now as they once did (or didn't or could, or should have) when you were first composing yourself into being.
Now you are all of it at once —
a baby, a womb, a force of life —
while the rest of the world still sees only the outer, known shape of you.
The layers emerging need energy to resist the weight of all the old needs and expectations placed upon you. And they keep falling, as surely as the autumn leaves to the ground.
And so the story repeats —
the story of emerging, resisting and belonging.
With the retracing comes clearing, with clearing comes emptiness and with it, the gripping, as a reflex desperately trying to fill in the blank.
And the emptiness needs to freely exist, for the re-growing of the new rooting system to emerge. Emptiness that evokes no fear, no fight or flight, but only empathy and understanding, a somber acknowledgement.
The delicate balance:
tip too far one way or the other,
and you lose sight of the beauty of becoming
fully.
But somewhere there is also an inner knowledge of all this.. the kind that writes poetry in times of imprisonment, the kind that dreams of abundance and love in the face of cruelty and scarcity.
The kind that hopes from the place of greater knowing.
Just to find it, again and again...
Text: me
Art by: Ivan Pokidyshev
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Vsak globok proces zdravljenja je kot ponoven prehod skozi lastno genezo.
Greš prostovoljno – z glavo ob glave, s srcem ob srca – s silami, ki so te oblikovale,
s silami, ki so še vedno prisotne v tvojem življenju, le da zdaj nosijo drugačna oblačila.
Tokrat si znotraj odraslega telesa, znotraj sedanjega trenutka,
znotraj časa, ki teče samo naprej.
Na nek način je to najvišje dejanje ustvarjalnosti –
potovanje nazaj, medtem ko čas teče naprej.
Vsako dejanje globokega vračanja zahteva prostor, čas in energijo,
a življenje se ne ustavi.
Nihče več ne drži prostora zate tako, kot so ga (ali pa niso, ali bi ga lahko, ali bi ga morali), takrat, ko si se prvič sestavljala v bitje.
Zdaj si vse hkrati – ti
dojenček, maternica, življenjska sila –
medtem ko svet okoli tebe še vedno vidi le tvoj znani zunanji obris.
Plasti, ki se razkrivajo, potrebujejo energijo,
da se uprejo teži vseh starih potreb in pričakovanj, ki so bila položena nate.
In ta pričakovanja še naprej padajo, tako zanesljivo kot jeseni listje na tla.
In tako se zgodba ponavlja –
zgodba o vznikanju, upiranju in pripadanju.
Z vračanjem nazaj pride čiščenje, s čiščenjem praznina,
in z njo krč, refleks, ki obupano poskuša zapolniti to praznino.
A praznina mora obstajati
prosto,
da lahko skozi njo znova požene nov koreninski sistem.
Praznina, ki ne vzbuja strahu, ne boja ali bega,
temveč le empatijo in razumevanje,
resno, tiho priznanje.
To je nežno ravnovesje:
nagni se preveč na eno ali drugo stran
in izpred oči izgubiš lepoto postajanja
v polnosti.
A nekje obstaja tudi notranje védenje o vsem tem…
tisto, ki piše poezijo v času ujetništva,
tisto, ki sanja o obilju in ljubezni sredi krutosti in pomanjkanja.
Tisto, ki upa iz prostora globljega védenja.
Le najti ga, znova in znova…
