May 5, 2015
Confessions of a Free-Range Spiritualist:Dancing for my Life by ELAINE GALE
Flatlines and Faith
All alone I have cried
Silent tears, full of pride
In a world made of steel,
Made of stone.
Dancing saved my life in my early forties.
My marriage was in shambles after a long bout with infertility. The high cost of treatments over six years bankrupted us.
The miscarriages broke our hearts. We lurched between grief and guilt. Family sent flowers. Friends brought food and left it on our porch.
I didn’t trust my body. I resented it for not doing its job. What was wrong with me?
I blamed myself. I blamed the universe. I got depressed. Then, I got really depressed. Eventually, our marriage caved in. My husband and I separated.
The endless landscape of possibility from my twenties was replaced by the finite fields of my forties, a constricted geography.
Some dreams died suddenly. Others felt more like a long bloodletting, a steady drain of life itself splashing red into a white bowl. I was disoriented and weak, my life-force diminished.
The bloodletting. There were ways in which I had given my power away, how I had lived my life for other people. I wanted to be liked. I wanted my parents’ approval. I wanted to belong.
I closed my eyes and asked for all the help I could get, for any angels or guides or ancestors to find me, to guide me back to myself…READ ON HERE: SOUL GROWTH RADIO