my writing gets an enema

My writing gets an enema

I am laying with the enema tube inserted strategically in my rectum and unsure of what to expect. Jeff Brown is speaking about writing, chaos and structure. Glancing around I laugh because although unlike him I am not a Virgo, I have Virgo in my chart and I like both order and chaos. What I adore when working with my clients is their chaos, their inability to see beyond the disappointment of their writing. When I look at their work, the order seems obvious.

In my own life I can see how I have created order so that I can work through my own chaos. My home is decluttered regularly. Recently before a trip to the UK I put away my summer clothes convinced that it would be Winter when I returned. It wasn’t, but it gave me a chance to put aside those things that I no longer needed.

Inside my colon there are things I do not need. I can’t see inside there but something tells me that years of ‘not looking after myself’ and living in extreme chaos is clinging to the walls. The toxins are not just food, it’s everything about me, mind, body, soul and spirit. It’s the debris of my life. My desire to bring order and cleansing to my inner world and stop the pain is driving me.

My colon contains what needs to be let go. The coffee enema will open up my liver and release other stored toxins. The release will not stop there. As the grunge of life is restored by balance, my soul will be able to soar and so will my forward journey.

The coffee solution is ready and it’s time to relax.

Looking around I can see how I like order. Prior to the insertion, I have prepared my space, yoga mat, blanket, towels, pillow, computer, stop watch, jugs of water for a flush, my coffee enema, castor oil, cotton and a something to hold the castor oil packing in place. The smoke from the incense rises, curls randomly and dissipates into the air, I feel soothed.

Warm furry socks keep my feet toasty, but my bare legs and bottom can feel the draft from the open door. I keep the door open so that my dogs can get outside whenever they want. Surprisingly they leave me alone. There is normally a nose in my private parts. Perhaps they can sense that this is important for me.

The coffee flows in, it’s warm and I immedietly tense, there is something that scares me. What if the coffee as it releases toxins brings more disruption to my life? Then I ask what if it didn’t? What if it brought the opportunity for the physical pain to dissipate? What if I enjoyed what was released? How would it be if I explored what came forward? What if I learned about the seat of my soul as my liver releases it’s toxins? What if life is never the same again?

My liver, she who has taken on board every toxic experience. She who has tried to process constant rubbish. She who has tried to declutter and bring neatness so that my soul’s love can shine through. How did I think it was ever ok to do this to myself? In truth, I didn’t care, until now. In fact, I didn’t know. I’d always focused on my heart and what she was saying. No wonder my heart couldn’t speak her truth when her sister was full of lifes crap.

Bringing my attention to my liver, I discover sludge. There is dark deep stuff which is obstructing what lies beneath. There is no divining what is in there, because I cannot see it yet. If the Gods were to cut it open to examine it, what would they discover? Putting a halt to my musings a knowing comes to tell me that soon all will be revealed.

I decide I like the warmth of the coffee inside of me. Sensing that my body will eventually enjoy this new process of letting go of more shit and that’s not the physical stuff, but the deeply buried kind that creeps up to create disorder. My lungs will soon release grief and sadness and my heart will soon know true self-love as the old makes way for the new. As my blood is cleansed from a refreshed liver my spirit will be restored.

Soon an urgency calls me to evacuate. I sit and let go of the first lot of the unknown. I sense a change and I know that to reach the into the depths of my soul, this practise along with my words, will bring inner peace and a deeper connection to my divine inner wisdom. My writing is the tool that will enable me to express that and show me things that I never before could have imagined. My liver whispers have faith.

Peace descends on me, as this enema ritual comes to an end for now.  I have opened the gate to creating something profound to my life and writing. Soon I’ll be back on my sofa with neatness around me, a dog either side and I know that it is safe to create this uncertainty.

JMAdmin

Writer, author, book coach, conscious woman and mum to three beautiful dogs. Living in the hills in Spain watching the world from a distance and drinking tea are just a part of what I fill my days with. That is when I am not writing or walking said dogs.

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Madeleine - November 7, 2016

This is so beautiful, Jacqui. I feel I would be tempted to make light of this, but you’ve really touched on what is profound and deep about this choice, beyond the physical, and it is inspiring to read. I love following your journey and the honesty you bring. And you’ve also put into words something I experience with my copywriting clients: “What I adore when working with my clients is their chaos, their inability to see beyond the disappointment of their writing. When I look at their work, the order seems obvious.” Interesting to muse on that balance between order and chaos; as writers I don’t think we can have one without the other. The messy creation and then the cool editing. Pouring out words, and then cleaning them up.

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Vaishakhi - November 9, 2016

How well you write about something as base as an enema! Great piece on cleansing – body and mind! Thanks

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