I've deliberated on whether to release this note. I had wild imaginations about what you'll think of me. Granted that I cannot control your thoughts or judgments of me, yet I was unsure if I would be providing you with reasons to be vigilant against me. What if I end up providing your defense system with more ammunition? Mainly, will you doubt my sincerity? Oh, the many what-ifs….

Releasing this dandelion seed feels big for me. It is for my liberation as a writer and integrity as a healer. Moreover, I hope that my dissection and exposition of some of my personality structures can support you in your own work to welcome more openness and light to yours. The more our personality seeks to hide us, the more we need to bring light to it. So we may remember who we really are.

P.s. I love how “heal” and “integrity” have their roots in wholeness.

The Psychosis (or Fixation)

Our personality is developed as a reaction to pain. Any experience that overwhelms our nervous system causes our body to register stress and pain. We lose the ability to discriminate what we feel, and our innate intelligence adopts strategies to obtain what it needs to sustain life. It sounds animalistic, and it is thanks to this part of our nature plus other faculties that such a vulnerable race like us is able to survive and evolve.

Every personality has its fixation—that thing or person to avoid or conquer—to get what it needs. It’s like a job scope, a list of things to watch out for, along with a list of rules (beliefs) to follow. Here is a snapshot of an interview with mine, who apparently takes pride in her job. Notice the cynicism she employed to cover up her hurt and create a safe distance.

I can become anything you want me to be. Except be me. That, I’ve forgotten how to do. I doubt, too, if you truly want to see that. So, enough with your lies. You are not going to be able to handle what I have to offer nor receive what I am. Don’t bother trying. Let’s forget this conversation ever happened, and return to our pleasantries—you believing you know me, and I, faithful to the image you knew. This current distance works perfectly fine. We don’t have to move closer.

I’m not an actor. I don’t act, I become. There is no mask, but a piece of art. Malleable. I shape me to become your missing piece. Read me any way you like. Fill in your own meaning, since you will never understand me. I will let you be right about me. It’s easy, just run program “They-know-better,” then what you see of me will become my truth.

When we study our personality, we also get to uncover our natural gifts. For example, in my case, I am more easily in touch with my amorphous nature, which distinguishes me as a shapeshifter instead of a chameleon. My consciousness (automatically) takes on shapes , and it took me a lot of practice before I was able to sufficiently slow the frames to create a window for a choice point. This is how deeply ingrained this pattern, created at a pre-verbal age, is for me.

The reason for finding out how long we have repeatedly run a same pattern is not to induce shame or blame. We would have suffered enough, don’t you think? Rather, we want to bring compassion and kindness to our suffering.

Now, what if I peeled back this layer? What’s beneath my personality’s fixation?

The Genesis

Here are a few excerpts extracted from different ages, creative ways I had filled in the blanks and made (convenient but incorrect) meaning of my experiences. They served me; they temporarily relieved my suffering, then brought further suffering.

“I meant nothing to my mother, since she was willing to leave. I was not a point of consideration at all.”

“I have an implicit (body) memory of myself in my first couple of years contorting myself to take on the shape of my mother’s holding so I could be held comfortably by her. It played out in my adult life as the belief: If I change my shape—morph—to hold them, they will not drop me.”

Swinging between two opposite poles:

Prolonged contortion accumulates resentment, and may result in the burning of bridges, and isolation. The need for space and autonomy fights back with rage, “I rather be alone than live to your bidding.”

Beneath the fire are pleas from innocence and vulnerability.

“If I have nothing to offer you, will you still be with me? Will you stay?”

“Is it okay that I am just this [nothingness]?”

What if I had posed these questions right from the beginning? Like how we made friends as children. I have nothing for you but my ordinary being, will you still like to hang out together? I offer you nothing but space, a non-judgmental space, will you like to work with me? I am easily moved to laughter and tears; I crumble easily and I rise easily, will you be okay with me? Life can be simpler when I allow myself to be more vulnerable.

Rending the veils

Some moments, when I'm blessed to catch a glimpse behind the veils, the empty shell is exposed, causing an existential crisis.

Here is a piece inspired by my latest episode of this crisis:

Everything is inherently empty.

This revelation stirs the dormant pain
in my right chest. I find myself on the edge
of a cliff wrestling with the truth.

Emptiness is devoid of meaning.

A chair is a chair. Nothing more and nothing less.
We can attribute meaning, and meaning is irrelevant, to it.
What we see changes, but its true form, untouchable.

Emptiness is empty. Nothing matters.

From this vantage point, death looks seductive.
The unknown abyss feels more welcoming
than being stranded on this threshold.

Nothing is here. Everything just is.

My eyes feel hollow yet they see so clearly.
I am but a shell, nothingness fills me.
Existence, without reason.

I call it a blessing when I get moments of clear-eyed seeing, but these moments often feels torturous—watching myself drown in quick sand; it is hard to not go with my reflex to resist and struggle. Yet, when I finally gave up and lay on the bed, what felt like an empty existence revealed the ground of all being.

I know I'm not alone in struggling. We each carry stories about who we must be in relation to the other. It started off as a brilliant strategy to cope with circumstances and have our needs met, yet over countless reinforcements, we've trapped ourselves in a limited way of relating.

Some days, we feel good; others, we feel small and tired. We want a new possibility for ourselves but we are afraid that the other will not take well to our change. Most of all, we've become afraid of who we truly are, that the power we hold will threaten the relationships we have. We rather maintain the status quo and be in these limiting relationships than take the risk for a chance of true connection.

Lean into spring

With this note, I took another risk. If you feel the roused longing to sprout or spread, I invite you to take one small step for yourself, a step into freshness and possibility.

If you’d like to talk about any of the work I engage in to let in+out more light, schedule some time here.

🍯 The Dandelion Notes ~ Writer’s Fund

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Hello & welcome — I am glad you are here. I am Rosslyn Chay, facilitator, healer, poet—each of these, a very human attempt to mend our fractured relationship with our nature and free the truth of who we are from the weight of our history. The Dandelion Notes are field notes on my attempts.