turning wine back into water
Ritual can guide us in unexpected ways.
The day I stopped drinking, it was like a switch flipped - but it wasn’t a lightbulb moment. The lights were off. Had been for awhile. [] There was no grand epiphany or angels singing. There definitely wasn’t relief. There was a lot to sit with. I didn’t need the lights on to see that. You could just feel it. Maybe that’s what switched. I could feel it. I could feel a lot of things. And I didn’t know how. Or, well, I thought I didn’t know.
Meet the Instructor
I started this by asking, “What if the only ways into your body were through metaphor? through your body of work?” But upon asking that question, I realized that my body was giving me the metaphor, the image, the mimage. I was finally connecting to my body and it was finally communicating back to me.
I say finally, but I think my body has been trying to communicate to me through my work for awhile. Actually, I can probably say that I’ve been communicating with myself my whole life and I didn’t know how to see it. I didn’t know how to speak my language. I spent a long time not witnessing myself. What I was actually saying to myself through my work. Honestly, I didn’t see it as work. Largely, because it flowed so easily. It just showed up and asked me to witness it. I was used to things being hard. I thought it was supposed to be. I guess witnessing myself would have meant that I would have to witness the structures I was in as well. The conditions of (im)possibility.