Unearthing the Rapture of the Energetic Self

It’s the middle of the night and a surge of energy runs through my toddler body as I flap like a piece of raw chicken across the stark hallway. My eyes are peeled open as if closing them would mean death of my soul. The scream released from my alien entity within feels like a scrubber brush cleaning me from the inside out. My mother was always in shock and at a loss of how to handle these episodes. The next day I would have forgotten all about it, but my body had a memory. What was this seemingly foreign operation rippling through me in these dark hours of the night?

The energy traveled though my veins like an undomesticated animal sinking its teeth into my flesh and tossing me about just for fun. It was fluid, yet thrashing; out of control but with a system. It smelled sour like spoiled milk and earthy like firewood. It felt like velcro and knives cradled by the pillowy landing of the floor beneath me. It looked like women chanting naked by a campfire in the forest. It tasted like burnt marshmallows lacerating my throat. It sounded like a deep howling; the kind that tickles to the bone and startles you into the safety of your chrysalis.

The energy that ran through me in those moments was of a different nature. It demanded to be heard, felt, and seen in it’s raw and naked state. This energy I’ve felt from a young age has taken me on a wavering pathway towards an infinite glow represented by a tiny flame. It is a malleable and mutative force that seemingly appears and disappears out of nowhere. It has no origin and no death. It lives in the spaces between solid matter. It hides out, expands, and infiltrates. It is simultaneously loud, soft, dull, and bright. It salivates in colors. It smells voices through the inhalation of an internal musical masterpiece.

To many, energy is elusive and confusing. But to me, energy is my first language. It runs through me as naturally as a baby’s first breath. I haven’t always understood the power that comes with feeling it all, but I’ve known it is real. Energy has saved my life repeatedly with its brutal honesty and iron clad grip on the functions of my earthly anatomy. Energy is the clearest and most direct way to truth. It crushes me like a tidal wave and holds up an unrelenting mirror to my shadow parts. Energy whispers a song of the fairy in her bountiful garden. It combs through the aura of the emaciated werewolf who howls at the midnight moon in the pain and power of its journey.

Energy is a portal into the multifaceted reality of our humanness and innately divine nature. When I enter this gateway of truth, I can see clearly just how vulnerable each one of us is. In this tender state, I see lifetimes past of ancestral wounding. I hear the aches of a person’s soul crying out in their unprocessed grief. I feel the wholeness of creation itself and all the layers we put on top of it in order to cope with our fears of the inevitable death and release of our bodies. I see purity and wildness wrapped up in one neat container. I see light beings covered in meat suits.

When I am honest with my energy, I see where it is gripping and fearful. I listen deeply to its cries and offer an apology. This creates a clear line to a release that is more potent than my tears can fully articulate. A door opens, and the power of that one tiny flame is ignited once again. It is within the discomfort of sitting inside it, like a mother witnessing a child in their most veracious tantrum, that I am able to discover an opening to self.

If we can allow the grief to flow freely through an avenue of tears, shaking, moving, and breathing, we unleash our animalistic urge and pure nature within. Energy serves to guide and protect our very right to live a most authentically aligned and beautifully messy life. Energy commands attention, whether or not you want to listen. It demands fluidity in a world that puts containment on a pedestal. If we turn a blind eye, it will sink into the crevices between tendons, flesh, and blood. It will make creases in neural pathways in our brains, cause dis- ease in our hearts, and create a life that was never meant to be lived.

The force of energy has taken me to the darkest and loneliest rooms of human suffering, but it has also revealed a freedom that I can no longer deny. It has infused a truth serum into my veins that, if ignored, will leave me flapping like a pancake in the presence of a person who was never meant to free me from the pain. Energy clothes itself in nothing and bears its truth unapologetically. It is the beginning and the end of our suffering, melding together darkness and light as one single truth. Energy is a landing place for the home I always yearned for.