Me, Myself & . . .

Befriending Your Pieces, Parts, Petitioners & Partisans.

PC: Alberto Ruggieri, Getty Images

Forgive me. I’m in a High Holy ADHD fog these days so what you are about to read may be deemed chaotic by some. Reader discretion is advised.

I did that thing today that I do. I followed a strand of thought and it connected to another strand and another and voila, even if they’re not all related, I’m going to twist them together and call it a braided ponytail.

My first thought came to me in the shower so I trust it the most. All my best thoughts are born as I stand under a rain shower of hot water and stare at that beige tile wall.

I realized my voice is back. Nothing loud or anything but I could just tell. When she sashays back in from wherever she drifted to…and sometimes that’s nowhere, as in, sometimes she just hides out in an overstuffed basement closet for a while…but when she’s back, everyone inside knows it even if she hasn’t uttered a word. She’s like the House Mom, or Artist in Residence or something. She takes up space, makes messes, and just generally makes herself known that she’s got things going on.

So yeah, I noticed that. And then I began to think of something Abigail Thomas wrote today, which reduces things down to Longing as a core is-ness.

So then I was thinking about Voice as an entity and Longing as a kind of puppeteer who animates us, and our Shadow who’s always dogging us, and Grief as the hungry Ghost who’s always whispering to be fed by us, and Fear as the scary friend who has a cautionary story for why you shouldn’t risk anything.

PC: PhildelaHaye.com

And that led me to thinking about Parts work from Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy and how we’re all a kind of crowded ‘Rumi’ng house with all these motley characters - internal managers, firefighters, exiles, and core, healthy parts of self, each vying for attention, affection, or destruction.

I return then, back to that conversation between Abigail Thomas and her friend Chuck, how there is no it, there’s just the Longing…..the “ing” or the gerund of it all and I think yes, Yes!

It has me wanting to honor each one of these internal parts with a stage, warm spotlight, comfy director’s chair, microphone, endless monologue, a standing ovation, hug, and bouquet of flowers.

Because the role each plays in our life is monumental. Which leads me to this month’s Praxis, and because it’s summer, to the garden.

Come with me, friends, and bring all your parts. It will be a Garden Party.

Just Enough

by Nanao Sakaki

Soil for legs
Axe for hands
Flowers for eyes
Bird for ears
Mushroom for nose
Smile for mouth
Songs for lungs
Sweat for skin
Wind for mind