The Only Way Out is Through

By Juanita Ayacitlali, Clara Tissot and Troy Benoit

The Only Way Out is Through is a compilation of sincere, visceral, explicit and luminous texts that invite us to travel into the human psyche. With different voices and mediums, the author shares her intimacy with us and immerses us in her experience as a human being, driven by the desire to create a new world.
The authenticity of this work allows us to navigate with her at the heart of the layers that make us who we are.

The Only Way Out is Through
A journey Within
by Juanita Giraldo Bueno
ISBN: 978-1-6780-8368-7

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781678083687

Book preview

parpados

¹ heavy and my breath fast , as if I was still in a race of performance.

There is a howling need to make something Epic.

Yes - drumroll - Epic .

Nothing more and definitely nothing less.

[But wait, can we look at the definition of this word for a second :

A long narrative poem in elevated style recounting the deeds of a legendary or historical hero. And let me add - "When epic began to be used as an adjective in English it was in specific reference to the characteristics of the type of poem that bears the same name. A couple of centuries passed, and the word’s meaning came to describe other kinds of works, aside from poetry, which had similarly grand characteristics. More recently, epic has been found used in a highly colloquial fashion, in a manner that is largely synonymous with outstanding, fabulous, or impressive."

²]

Ok, let's skip the definition, or take it with pinces

³ I guess it does connect with the thought of epicness, in the sense that is the Hero’s Journey. Wanting to write something Grandiose, something that will bring the reader into all sorts of states and emotions, and make them chill, cry, laugh and enjoy - as much as allowing their guts to twist from the depths.

There is in me this burning desire to make of this book something that will transcend history.

But, where does this standard comes from?

Where does the pressure leak in?

It is certainly not just from one place.

It is clearly a series of events.

It seems funny to feel I grew up, and I have the impression many of us grew up (and are still on the process of doing so) with this deep need of performance. Since we were very young we have been graded and compared to one another in standard forms when in my humble perspective there is no way to say something is standard.

How could we ever do one exam for all the fish in the ocean?

Would you compare them by their ability of chasing?

Would you compare them by their capacity then to digest coral and make sand?

Would you compare them by how far they travel in migration?

… Would you compare them by their capacity to breathe?…

The list can go on, forever and ever, so many attributes and factors, but at the end of the day we don’t all share the same factors, and thank God. That is what makes this experience absolutely transformative and surprising.

Then, how is it possible that we are trying to create one exam for the kids on this earth?

⁴

The whole dance between the famous self-question

- How can I transform the world & how can I transform myself?

And so, in the tweaking and calibration of my own thoughts, emotions and path I then wondered… ~

How do I treat myself?

How do I treat my fellow human beings?

Those that have also participated in the same race, feeling their very survival depended on their performance and behaviour. Believing that at one point of history I will make such an epic performance, that everything will be all right.

I mean, there is an extent of truth in these statements, as far as we live within these systems that have birthed us.  These standards and expectations can bring us much success and wellbeing. And the truth is, until there is no choice but to move out of the system to create new ways of growing, educating and being, then our lives will continue to depend on a monetary system in order to be able to nurture our basic human needs—food, water, shelter and in some cases, even affection.

~ Through these writings, through this process, I will keep on weaving and sharing my very own perspective of a new system and world. Not because I believe this is the one and only way, but because it has become more and more important for me to be an active manifesto of the most beautiful life my heart knows possible. And through my own truth and perspectives, I wish you the very same, may you be able to find the most beautiful life your heart knows possible ~

The thing is, if I believe that love and affection comes from an external source then I would automatically seek for approval. For there is the belief that I need to fit into other peoples standards to be cared for, when in reality I would just be peeling my skin slowly with barbed wire.

Literally.

It is painful, overwhelming, it is just not who I am. And that is when, for me, the impostor syndrome kicks in.

Damn am I not good enough?

Good enough for what?

And even worse - drowsiness, fogginess and sleepiness kicks in - try to write through that!

The pressure valve is about to explode!

As fermented food in a mason jar that is far past the date - the clock is ticking for a clattering, shattering and incubating explosion to take place. Yet, there is an urge to continue, for I do want to write this piece. And I want to write it to the best of my abilities - make it right . But whoa… right for whom?

Certainly not right for myself if instead of doing it I just keep on putting unnecessary pressure on myself and end up hurt.

To be totally honest, what is in the root of this impostor syndrome is a deep deep desire to be ME. (and be free…)

Not only that,

I want to be me and be good! -  The little girl inside of me screams.

However, as I take a deep breath and reflect upon this today, I wonder, how can it be any other way?  If I am doing me, then I am doing Go(o)d. Isn’t it so?

* Pressure keeps escalating. The valves are open now *

What am I ready to put at stake to be congruent, to walk with courage to embrace my very own and personal path - the one that is coded at birth. 

Where are my key values?

Where is the gift of this very unique individual being manifested?

With all these heart-felt reflections, I take my stand on the keyboard today. For this is one of the ways that nourish me the most, taking the time to write that which is alive inside of me, for real. Without bluffing, without plastic flowers and dab of cologne. Rather straight up - the way I like it most. (Not because it is easy, but because is liberating) When it’s colourful that’s what will be on paper, when there is twisting and burning, then let the papers be charcoal. For this is one of the ways I find the most powerful to actively manifest the most beautiful world (personal reality) my heart knows is possible. 

To arrive to that place, I believe there is a need to create a safe space where love, harmony, truth, justice and integrity are at on the top of the scale.

I want to live in a world where there is no need to be measured or weighted, and if for some mysterious reason I would have to be measured, let it be in relationship to myself and my very own values. Let me be weighed by my levels of integrity towards my own truth,  celebrated by my very personal and individual potential when I arrive to manifest what is alive within my very self.

I want to be honoured and remembered for my degree of happiness and accountability, (not for the sake of remembrance itself, but rather because it is of vital importance for me to feel the work I do, and all I manifest, remains in this world as an inspiration to be more true and authentic every day.) For I will do everything I can to shine my inner truth to the entire world, Or block, Or family, Or friends, Or towards my very self.

Honestly, I want to start feeling highly encouraged to be my own unique self by myself. I don’t want to wait for the whole world to change so that I will take action and love myself. I will not put that responsibility on anyone but myself - not my partner, not my mother, not my brother. That would be way too big of a burden to carry, and it will make no difference anyways. So I accept responsibility for my own choices.

This does not mean that my dream dies, not at all. I wish the kids of the world will grow to feel loved through their unique qualities and ways, so that they can feel safe to a point that they will say YES to life, and have the discernment to put their limits and trace their own unique path. For them to walk in this world, sharing their own stories.

We all have stories to share. We all have work to do. We all have a very unique essence that will touch this life, I believe it in my bones.

It is just a matter of finding space.

We need to create the space for us all to develop to the best of our capacities, by creating new works, creating new ways, by looking outside the box. We need to create space for those that are great at just observing life. For those that can make every word sound like honey. For those that have an eye for beauty and decoration. For those that work with their bodies to dance, move and let spirit pass through them…We need to  create a place for all of us, to showcase our most outstanding characteristics and skills, where there is a space that is right, aligned and feels deeply nourishing. We need to let go of the specific forms, and rather melt into the way of our soul. May this path open the gates to acknowledge that through being ourselves, and allowing change to emerge, we are making a living monument to human life and through this we are acknowledging life itself.

We are honouring and celebrating creation, by planting our own seeds of beauty, of wellbeing, of grace, of perception. Because at the end of the day that is the game as well, the exploration of different lenses and perceptions.

What makes us happy?

What makes us smile?

What does this very particular body I am inhabiting needs to feel    aligned and alive?

There are people that love being in contact with other human beings and some that don't…., some people need 8 hours of sleep, some 3, some people are night owls, some early morning birds... and in all this pallet of colours there is still a very precious beat, and a umami.

⁵

This brings me to want to love myself more and more, to keep on discovering my colours and ways. To acknowledge that which makes me happy, grateful and alive, so that I can keep on giving to life in authentic and original ways.

And so it comes, through the pleasure of writing, the manifestation of my heart through this gift of creation.To write is the one thing I love most on this world, for it allows my soul bloom as I learn to see myself straight- in-the-eyes and love myself in ways I never thought possible. But somehow, as I think of sharing my truth with the world there is something within me that shakes.  I find anxiety in this process of sharing my truth.  This too is a blessing as I learn to walk my walk and learn to be the image of my own creation.

There have also been other things that have brought about anxiety and rawness to my process of writing, such as those moments when my creative oasis has dried up, leaving nothing more than empty words on my desk.

I have changed my story line about a million times, at times just going through the same maze and thinking of different ways of weaving the very same threads. And then there have been the times where I’ve felt like completely  diverging from the main idea. But well, I guess that is part of the theme itself, the journey of writing about death and rebirth in this piece of Le Souper de la Mort et la Renaisance. And let me tell you, words create; they really do, for in this process I have been living quite a death - or deaths. The very same period where my grandma died, my friend ended his journey on earth and stories of abuse where revealed in the community and the whole world hit an incredible shift through what I like to call the Coronation. 

All this learning and unlearning has awoken a colourful and playful me, brining in new understandings, new perspectives and incredible possibilities of rebirth.

For it is all going so fast, my very own perception is changing from day to day, leaping from week to week. From immense grace to absolute fear and back. It’s just like a bird- one day all it sees is the dark within the egg, believing that’s it. Those are its limits and forms. But no, far from it! Next thing it knows the chick has this innate urge to expand, and so it gets ready to transpose the boundaries, to use all its strength and physical ways to break the shell. And so it hits, and hits, and hits again, moving its muscles for the very first time. Feeling the heat of matter moving through its body on this transformation. Its reality as shifted, and there is almost no way to compare it to the previous experience. There is space for expansion, there is night but there is also day, there are other beings around the chick- mom and dad, brothers and sisters - there is air, there is food. There is a whole new perspective, and so  its new life starts in the nest… There it is, being nurtured by its caregivers, and in all that spare time the chick might take a moment or two to think of a new of the experience of the egg. However, no matter how clear it seems in its spirit, the egg itself has become but a mere concept, an idea, a memory and today we know scientifically that the brain has really interesting and tricky ways of moving about. The chick ain't immersed in its senses no more, and so all it is currently experiencing is also overriding the program that is in charge of memories. And so the time comes to choose, to either focus on the vague concept of past times or on the new exploration that is opening up to it as it explore its senses fully.

A whole new perspective wanting to be revealed.. and if you didn't catch that one on the fly, then the actual experience of learning how to fly will take over., leaving the nest, finding its own food and so it goes. It is just simply the way it is.

One moment that leads to the next.

There is no turning back. Not as life once was, that is certain. There is the possibility of reflecting upon past episodes and experiences for that can be really nourishing and healing - but only if it comes from a space of new perspectives and openness, to see things under a new light. This is what I chose to experience with this specific format and piece of writing, to share moment to moment what is real, what resonates within me, allowing the process to fully immerse without controlling it and tasting the wonders it brings about. Right now as it is - Here, through the dreams, the emotions, the sensations. Allowing an idea to be mourned in the very same page for a new understanding to be developed. Trusting that once the bird takes flight there will be a deep sense of self and clarity that will be easier to share with the wind, the sky and the earth. And so, the journey has begun with this particular piece. As my grandma died, I realized how far I have been from my family for the last 8 years. So far that it was hard for me to even mourn the passage of such a wonderful woman. A woman that I once saw every Sunday as we sat in her backyard and ate the most delicious grilled cheeses with Mango juice ( or Coca Cola - Oh yeah, back in the day ). A woman that became the elder of my surroundings, the one that would be present at Christmas and New Year, and with whom there were tender smiles and open hearts. But none of this really mattered to my emotive centre; it felt almost impossible for me to shed tears. Not because it is hard for me to do so, but because I didn’t even knew how to feel about it. It is easier for me to mourn the different process the planet is going through and the fact that there is no equality, wellbeing and freedom for all living creatures on the planet… but when it comes to individuals I will not see again it gets more complex. There is a sense of unreal, there is a sense of it never happened, and there is a sense of forgetting. That is where it goes, automatically, just forget. And so I remember the very mourning of my mom’s dad, which was never lived, not by my grandma, not by my mom, and not really by me. No matter how much I have tried to bring about the subject and make the passage. It is just there, laying on the unconscious, moving around processes, yet blocking all the mourning activity there can be - which is also a great lesson in terms of the intention of the book. This started as a core desire to explore the process of mourning, what is within as well as what is outside. For I, myself, never got thought how to deal with these big transitions.

Then the very first seeds tickle me again, what makes death such a deep feeling? 

Can distance change this feeling?

If I had died, would they mourn me?

Would I want to be mourned?

Or maybe it’s just normal that the less attachment there is, the easier it is to move through life, but wait, then, is mourning in relation to the amount of attachment to the person?

Or what is it about?

All these thoughts and questions spin in my mind, and I want to understand or at least explore what they really signify for me.

How to Mourn?

And why do I want to mourn?

What do I want to mourn?

How to be in contact with people that are in the process of mourning? Cause, I sincerely had no idea what to tell my dad and even less my grandpa, which set me in motion, to create a piece that I have no idea where it will lead. Rather, than the core desire of dying and rebirthing again and again in the most vulnerable, raw and truthful way.

To go beyond that which has been taught to me, that which I had believed I should be in order to be successful - whatever that means - as well as acknowledging the part that wants to be loved and cared for, and that in a way was ready to sacrifice its integrity to feel that warmth and attention, which would always create quite the opposite. For inside of me there is nothing to love more than a character, if I don’t walk in truth. I believe this is why some of our lives have felt so shallow. Because there is no way to nurture your soul, if you ain't even putting it out there for it to play, connect or explore.

I want to learn to be more like me, which I realize has many facets, moods, depths and ways of expanding and transforming. A great capacity of resilience and an infinite potential which makes this ride of life even more interesting and juicy… I mean, there is no day like another!

But I am also aware that to come back to myself and live in alignment every day, embracing my different colours I would have to embrace many - many - self deaths. Which are far from being done, I would even say, I believe they would never be done. I’ve come to the realization that every day is a death. A possibility to awake into another reality, and see new parts of yourself. A deeper more abstract, yet incredibly wise you - to open the gate to your subconscious. Passing that gate allows for new forms of awareness, and perceptions, which bring about change. Change which is inevitable, however, the invitation through the actual acknowledgement of impermanence (change) is that it can be put in service of wellbeing, peace and honest connection. Every second becomes a great act of awareness, or has the potentiality to be so, where we can consciously choose to explore new ways and then maybe say no to something that you would normally say yes to. To give that extra boost and finish a project, let go of a loved one, transform a situation, embrace love in its different forms. What is interesting about this is that there are levels and layers of engagement and depth, there are things that are really complex for the mind to let go of, others that the emotions would rather just keep making it harder to digest change, but at the end of the day every mourning is possible. Letting go of all is possible and can bring, in my humble opinion, lots of peace.

***

Different Types and Levels of Mourning

I’ve observed degrees of toughness and letting go, as for example, the death of a person might be trickier to mourn, for there is no turning back. You will not be able to relieve that very particular relationship in a physical way, and depending of the depth of your bond the mind might play tricks on you and human melancholy systems might kick in big time.

That is what I would call the First Degree of Mourning - you are left to face it. How? That is a whole other topic, but that is what life is offering you in a very bold way.

Then there is a Second Degree of Mourning, when you change in the material plane. Such as growing, moving to a new home, to a new city or even a  complete change of culture. There is the deep understanding that this is how it is and you can’t really fight it off. So you change, and find new ways of being, and then mourn in a way that makes sense to you. Sometimes it only takes a second, sometimes it takes weeks… It becomes a process; it brings about rememberance - a certain melancholy and trust.  Packing boxes to move to a new house can become an incredible ride through your