I have spent a long time moving towards becoming myself. I have spoken about it as healing, finding my voice, listening to the wisdom of the body, and welcoming exiled parts home. Now, listening to Janina Fisher’s book about fragmentation and trauma, I have found a new language for this familiar process. It helps me understand experiences I lived with long before I could put them into words.
There is something about the autumn equinox that feels less like a turning away from the light and more like an invitation to discover where light actually lives.
(This is a piece from earlier this year, but as it seems to be resurfacing and someone asked to hear more about this, here it is again, this time in english..)
I am beginning to understand erotic liberation as something very different from sexual freedom. For me, it is the return of desire to its rightful home. It is reclaiming the life force I have sometimes traded for attention, shaped around another person’s gaze, feared because of what it might awaken, or restrained in an attempt to remain safe.
We tend to treat physical reality as the beginning because it is the part we can see. A decision becomes real when someone acts on it. A relationship becomes real when two people meet. A home becomes real when there is land beneath it, wood in the walls, a key in the hand. From this perspective, the physical step appears to be the first meaningful movement.
