“Recaka" is my new favorite word.
It's Sanskrit for "expulsion." In the practice of yoga pranayama (breath-work) it basically means "to exhale." I'm not even big on Sanskrit but this word is the bomb dot com.
But I like "expulsion" like a dramatic exit.
Who doesn't love a dramatic entrance and/or exit?!
I had a dramatic case of "recaka" (by the way, the "c" is pronounced like a "ch" here: rech-a-ka) when I was hit with a bout of food poisoning the other night.
Sweat, shivers, and shits.
This time was much easier than the two times I had Montezuma's revenge.
Talk about recaka from both ends.
The body knows how to rid, that's for sure.
Sometimes shit needs to come out.
And sometimes, we need to stay in shit long enough to feel it and then let it out.
This is why expressing ourselves is important.
See what I did there?
From shit to expression. Insert side tongue out here.
Many of us have been taught that our thoughts, feelings, and actions don't matter.
Since we were children.
If you grew up like me with the conditioning that emotions were bad, your voice isn't necessary (until you're an adult...even then, it's questionable because you're a woman), or that your actions are not good enough (for your work, bosses, or in times under trauma, etc).
Bottle it up.
Sweep it under the rug.
Don't talk about it.
You ever notice how toddlers are one of the most expressive beings on the planet?
Crying their heads off one minute and giggling the next.
They're the queens and kings of getting over shit fairly fast (especially, if we let them a bit).
When babies are learning to walk, what do they do?
The wobble, fall, and every time -- they get back up.
They get back up.
As if giving up isn't option -- because it's not for them.
We adults give up so damn easily.
I wonder if it's because of our conditioning complexes. The story wounds that lead us back to the trail of "not good enough" belief systems.
I bet if each of us had solid support system -- like the way we support babies learning to walk -- we'd keep going eventually walking upright in our creative genius.
We need to people to lean on, sometimes.
I am the queen of trying to do it all and alone. I have this thing where I don't want to burden people by asking for help. I am realizing it also makes me think I know better. And I don't.
We need people that come up from behind to cup our armpits to prop us upright again so we can continuing wobbling forward.
Do have those people in your life? I hope you do.
I do. Even when I try really hard to not ask for their help.
I am totally working on that.
Here's a reminder:
Let your shit go. Recaka.
Wobble. And Fall.
Ask for help. And let people help (eh-hem, Steph).
Dust your knee caps.
And get your ass back up.
From recaka to getting back up.
Love is full of TMI sometimes.