Our ability to believe and feel is a testament to the self-healing we are choosing and have chosen. I feel the weight of these choices in every cell of me. How hard you fight. How powerfully you surrender to the demands of grief. How vulnerable you have to be. Our healing work is our justice and it requires more than we think we have within us. Far more than this world offers us.
I am both grateful and devastated you know it.
I hope today there are breaths of assurance, relief, and peace that you can identify without struggling to. That you are met with grace and compassion when you need them the most, even if you’re unable to truly feel concretely safe in receiving them. Because safety is relative and individual and complex.
Like a human partnership, the partnership we enter into with ourselves is similar. It isn’t fixed, controllable, or even comfortable. There are two parts, and each is fighting for their autonomy to be acknowledged; fighting to be heard. However, most often, our inner child doesn’t know they have autonomy yet. It is our task as adults who are healing to invite them into it. Once they begin to settle into their voice, having a conversation, building a partnership, becomes more accessible.
Your self-healing doesn’t have an expiration date.
The way you are fighting is loud in me, honoured in me, even if it is silenced elsewhere. –written by Skler Mechelle on her website
I am exhausted from caring for sick children at the tail end of my recent move. I am aware that there are many, many feelings actively dwelling in my body right now but I do not have the energy to access them. I can feel the pain swimming through me like a snake slithering just beneath my flesh. It settles for a while in a warm spot and while it is sunning itself I don’t notice its presence. When it decides it has absorbed enough warmth it glides around, surfacing in my left calf then ankle, and moves upward to a hip and then the base of my spine. Another pain snake has wrapped itself around my shoulder blades and seems to have taken up residence there.
I wanted to write about what I’m experiencing right now, to honor it and work with it, but could not find a way to do so. For inspiration, I read some of the underlined passages of Descent to the Goddess. It just felt overwhelming and like something I couldn’t truly access. Then I remembered my friend’s website about trauma and I went there to see if something she’d written might help me. And I found the words above and remembered that healing is a many faceted thing; sometimes it is the tireless work of building a partnership with my wounded selves, or allowing myself to relearn what safety is, while other times it is knowing when to pause because I can’t do the work when I’m overwhelmed or when my children have need of me.
Reading Skyler’s words left me feeling seen for the path I have chosen. The not simple or easy path of finding my way back into my body and becoming autonomous. And I especially love the idea that “Our healing work is our justice…”