“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.”
― David Richo
From the pit of my stomach, to the tips of my toes… From the top of my head to the end of my fingers, the overwhelming feeling of emotional waves and turbulence moves through me at warp speed.
Some days, I am numb, not able to comprehend what is going on, other days, the feelings run so deep I choke on the bitterness of my truth. If I want to heal, to move forward, to get to the other side of the bridge I am walking on, must I continue to feel every single thing?
Feeling it to heal it
I am reading Sue Monk Kidd‘s book : When The Heart Waits. This book, which I grabbed on a whim from my therapist’s office, resonates with my heart, and gives me « truthbumps » througout my soul. Her words bestow upon my existence, a purpose. I am « in waiting ». A moment of pause to heal, to look at my past in utmost detail, and let the old wounds mend. This, takes nurturing, grounding, truthing, embracing, and ripening to taste the sweet fruit of wellness. As much as I would love to have tomatoes in June, when I planted the seeds in May, I must wait, growing takes time, much more time than I had anticipated.
I was « so much » giving myself shit for taking so long to heal!
She calls it yeasting :
To create newness you have to cover the soul and let grace rise. You must come to the place where there’s nothing to do but brood, as God brooded over the deep, and pray and be still and trust that the holiness that ferments the galaxies is working in you too. Only wait.
And somehow the transformation you knew would never come, that impossible plumping of fresh life and revelation, does come… waiting is the yeasting of the human soul. » p. 43
This whole time, my inner bully calls me lazy, self-indulgent, and selfish. Yet I had an inner knowingness this time of my life is something really big! Huge even. I mean, I have never EVER been here before.
Never stood up for myself. Never set boundaries. Never spoke up. Never got angry. Never spoke my truth. Never looked at my life in a way that I mattered… « Never », in the sense of a being really consistent and accountable, in a self-loving way.
The old me would just let everyone do and say what they want to hear. The old me never liked doormats, yet she was one. The old me would cover herself in hate words, just to NOT feel the pain which was obviously welling up inside.
The old me was screaming : ALL I EVER WANTED WAS TO BE LOVED!!
All I ever wanted was to be protected, heard, seen, validated… So I tried in every way to seek attention in a negative fashion, which always ended up in abusive relationships, toxic friendships, and self-hatred.
None of this exists in my life anymore. I am alone with « her ». The inner bully. I am alone with « her. The inner child. I am … alone (physically not spiritually). And it is ok. My inner-child knows I will protect her from now on. Play with her, dance with her, and just be with her..
It is MY time, and I will take as much of it as I need.