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Window into the Universe--Devlin's beginning journey from Worry to "Fierce Courage"

Here is a self-study of some internal "character's" that I'm getting to know.  If you think this is strange language, it's helpful to understand the ideas found in "Internal Family Systems Models" by Richard C Schwartsz.   I'm crafting these stories for my own healing. . . . 

2/18/2013


Worrying rose early this morning.  Feeling lost, well in the last slumbers of this morning, worry saw the stars twinkling.  It heard a critical voice call.  Still enjoying a warm bath, he looked into the depths of the universe and caught a glimpse of the swirling beauty.  It was a short-lived glimpse.  Almost immediately the glimpse past. 

Next he figured out an explanation, then felt unable to come up with a viable plan to explain what that glimpse was.  So worry now showered, rested, sits and views the grader of the mountains.  The morning dawn plays at the horizon.  Its breath taking.  Washing away the worrisome fears, kindly and gently worry looks at the insecurity arising because of the lack o f worry material.  The relief of no worrying is huge.  This part he's longed for, but a measure of trepidation creeps in at what is his purpose now. 

His whole identity is wrapped up in this job.  I'm asking  him or encouraging a wise-minded approach.  He's still part of me.  My wiser-self sits beside him rubbing his back.  The dawn, the calm of the lake; the gentle breeze, breathes expectancy.  What will we discover?  Will worry discover a wise mind?  Will he discover a new identity?.  No need to worry at this point.  All around him, seeping quietly, calmingly into his being is the tranquility of nature.  This morning is not chilly, it's not hot, it's perfect.

Worry unhurriedly sips a tall glass of fresh orange juice.  A bowl of fruit invites an occasional bite.  Bananas, papaya, Apple's diced.  Each for perfectly ripe.  Delicious.  There are a fish leaps out of the war.  Gold circles ripple out.  The morning call of a march loon breaks through stillness, morning is breaking. With it, the newness of life.

 Worry believes that in the middle of where he's at now, inspiration will shortly come to thaw him out.  The new day will bring a new identity.  A tear slips out.  More tears.  There are tears of relief.  Something is warming in his being. The rays of the morning sun are lighting up the hills.  All is on fire.  Soon, in moments, the dawn will break. 

As if one with the sunrise something, like expectation, arises.  the dawn of his soul.  Perhaps today?? . . . maybe another??. ... Strange, in the moment is release enough.  Inspiration comes to his soul, as a beautiful gentle cooing dove.  Lighting on his shoulder the dove places her glistening head against his, she has a message of hope for him.  At the touch of her soft caress on his cheek there is a release of that long pent-up agony.  Suddenly there is a contrast.  Pi gently nestles up on the other sides. 

Quietly the three breathe deeply tears flowing.  releasing the pain, something is thawing.  The sun breaks the horizon, we feel. gently warmed by its rays the bird takes flight, and with it worry's soul is freed.  the past is free to fly. The struggle is over.  Pi nudges him.  He breathes life into his soul.  Today will be a thoughtful day. The release of the past is enough. 

Lago Maggiore, Italia
His soul now free as a bird, sees now depth.  The lure of a quiet day on the lake is over-powering.  There's a small wooden boat down over there.  The thought of a quiet morning rowing around is wonderful.  Maybe a dip in the lake too.  It's warm now.  Off comes his shirt.  He feels so wonderfully alive.  This is wonderful sacred living.  He grabs some water bottles and notices a small cooler.  Shoving these into the boat he pushes the boat into the water.

The water around his legs feels good.  The soft lake bottom messages his feet.  Giving that last shove he bounds into the boat.  The lapping wavelets  created by the disturbance ripple out around the boat.  It's a morning for quiet reflection.  An oar dips the water, the boat moves quietly and slowly out to deeper water. 

Water so clear, the beauty of the lake is real.  Silver flashes appear.  the sun is rising steadily, he slips back, arms under his head looking at the beauty of the mountains now appearing so fantastically green and lush, a flock of birds rises up and moves to the north, the lake is clam, the man is calm.  Pi at this side comforts, sustains, breathes life. . . 
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