Omphaloskepsis

"I'm too alone in the world, yet not alone enough
to make each hour holy.
I'm too small in the world, yet not small enough
to be simply in your presence, like a thing-
just as it is.

I want to know my own will
and move with it.
And I want, in the hushed moments
when the nameless draws near,
to be among the wise ones-
or alone.

I want to mirror your immensity.
I want never to be too weak or too old
to bear the heavy, lurching image of you.

I want to unfold.
Let no place in me hold itself closed,
for where I am closed, I am false.
I want to stay clear in your sight."
~Rilke's Book of Hours; Love Poems to God

After more than 3 years of no blogs, I recently posted 2 new journal entries.  I casually mentioned this to my husband and he immediately sat down and read them.  Bob looked inquisitive and sad as he sat down beside me on the couch and quietly said, "I'm sorry you're having such a hard time, Honey."  In other words, he was trying to offer support- trying to let me know that he is there for me. 
Immediately, my heart sank and I felt the old dreaded sense of shame wash over me.  I tried to escape it but, too late, the shoulds, and worse yet, the shouldn'ts multiplied in my brain.  The voices that accuse and condemn me for not having my act together got so loud that no matter how I tried, I couldn't drown out the noise.  I went to bed holding back tears and woke up at 4:00am with a crushing headache... out came my trusty ice-pack...
The next morning, I ruminated over the phrase, "contemplating your navel."  Funny, I haven't heard or thought of that phrase in years but it quickly surfaced in my consciousness, ready to hurl accusations of looking for attention and wanting pity.

Omphaloskepsis is a word that means literally "contemplating one's navel." It is derived from the Greek words "omphalos," meaning navel, and "skepsis," meaning enquiry.

In my 1st marriage I remember often hearing my husband say, "You're so melancholy.  You think too much."  It has felt wrong and self-centered to be introspective.  That presents a problem when you have inner-work that needs attention.  How much introspection is too much and how much is not enough?  I have no easy answers to this question but I must admit that there are memories and fears and heartache that need attending and the only thing I can think to do about it is to make space and time to unfold.

Today, in the hushed moments, in spite the old beliefs that I must be perfect or fears of being not enough (or maybe too much), I want to unfold and will let no place in me hold itself closed.