[ stur-frahd ][ fee-lingz ]
adjective (used with human object), stir-fried, stir-fry·ing.
to cook (consider) feelings (too) quickly by cutting (picking apart) into small pieces (every perceived difficulty) and stirring (mentally) constantly (ad nauseam) in our own thoughts intimately or with others over high heated beliefs: a common method of (poor) personal dealing.
unsoundly sensitive; readily affected by emotion to extremes:
Her stir-fried feelings left her heart aching uncontrollably.
Securely processing our thinking is similar to safely crossing a street. We’re easily and often strangled by our emotive state of being. Some of us carry internal ‘injuries’ from birth through to very recently. While these damages can be obvious, they’re countless conditions of battery our bodies take in that have nothing so apparent outwardly. Bruises might be obvious, yet inner lesions are equally as frightening. There’s even the notion that our parents or some part of their ancestry could inadvertently be planting seeds of scary proportions unknowingly or without care during pregnancy. Any such things we’ve ever been connected with can seep into our sentiency. Stir-fried feelings represent all of the casualties. Unhappiness can hold itself inside of us for ages and explode at the seams randomly or readily. The management of our traumas is an art form where we’re better off treating them most consciously.
Quite mockingly, my head has blown me a whopper of a migraine a couple of days after a dejectedly dark beating of stress from a boyfriend to a queen bee celebrity boss. The irony in this case, like with my (or anyone’s) high blood pressure, is the silence of this type of tragedy. The same goes for heart attacks to brain aneurisms or numerous maladies. Meaning, you can’t ‘see’ my migraine simply by looking at me. Unfortunately, this isn’t the glory of Killing Me Softly sexily. Commonly, our afflictions are causing incredible pain. However, we may be stuffing or allowing their festering unattended for years. Then, in they pop as pressure leaving us floundering. Maybe your tummy aches or your little toe is stubbed. In this realm, anything goes. But, it’s our responsibility meets expertise for inwardly-focused reassuring handling all manners of feelings that can transform our entire organism thoroughly.
A barrage of texts pounded suddenly into my morning. A dear girlfriend in crisis being brave enough to acknowledge her need for supportive attention clambered at me. Her gut was spooking her into the dominoes-falling effect of philosophically fatal reasoning. She was convinced she might have gall bladder stones. Between crying and sighing over not receiving a life break it seemed, a trip to the doctor for an ultrasound had been scheduled. I tried calling only to get voicemail and left an encouraging love message. I told her I was praying for her ease. Also, knowing her single mommy status merged with work misgivings, I suggested the idea that possibly this was merely her innards soliciting urgent attention for her highlighting differing importances. If she would check into those bodily areas during meditation to sense by asking herself what was her mid-section believing? Clarity and patience are healing.
I welcomed the phone ringing with that gal pal bestie telling me her sonography was satisfactory. The medics had found nothing. Instead, it was recommended she reflect upon how to alleviate areas burdening her as much as she was able with fresh options comparably to her prior practices of anguish. There was a spring in her voice, coupled with a minor bewildering embarrassment, that she had been so freaked out. Although, I totally identified. Once relieved, unsettled natures can appear silly retrospectively. Whatever the case, trapped offenses can swing like moods and arms angrily. From the beginning, her energy was urging that she claim a more fair and fun routine. The wise journey out of chaos is going into and through it. When we go beyond pointing at issues externally in exchange for unlocking their potential messages from within us we’re opening up to truer freedom.
I positively just finished my first ever trauma-informed yoga teacher training course on behalf of my beloved girlfriend Gemini Adam’s Womb Sense series of offerings. Herein, teachings empower one through the mastery of listening to our bodies. In these veins, I recognize more clearly the infamous bark versus bite idiom. We’re typically not tending or taught how to care for our problems properly. Therefore, people are quickly cranked to snippy snappiness of yelping. We don’t usually plan to inflict suffering. Unobservantly, life exhausts us very effortlessly. We spend a lot of time thinking “Why, me?!” Nevertheless, any good paradox isn’t complete without a solution to the mystery. Sinking into your spots of hardship, heartache, or any such medium is the key to illuming your path endlessly. I trust the beautiful maturities I learned will develop as continued uncurling through these writings, along with many other alcoves of my personality.
May all the jumbles we feel become our humble grace.