The times I have been in deep danger I have also been drunk. Either blackout drunk or mildly drunk and drugged. What pulled me out of this… well – the incidents happened, so I’m not sure I was able to pull myself out in time.. however… I’m still here… so I survived on some level. I’m not really sure which aspects of this I want to share or dive into. Maybe I can think of wading into the shallows of this… how can I dip my toes into recalling former trauma, abuse and assault? Is there a way this recalling can feel similar to my feet in the sand and my toes dipping into cool clear water? If the water is on the seashore, are there metaphors and imagery of seaweed, murky algae, fish and crabs hiding under the sand being kicked up by the waves? If the water is from a creek, is it rushing quickly passed my feet and up to my ankles? Does the pacing change? The volume of water? The sound? Is this water particularly cold, clear, ripply? Are there mini crayfish scuttling away from me to hide, or are they raising their claws and slowly approaching my toes – defending territory or otherwise?
I think I may need to use fiction and metaphor to share these moments so there is no deep dive, no shock-value to these stories. So maybe there is a transformation of trauma to a feeling of comfort, of cleansing, of cool calmness that can be washed past my feet and ankles – cleansing my connection to Earth, to center.
I need to use water as a vehicle to share these moments of deep danger in a way that also cleanses and heals.
where rivers are born 