“The place of true healing is a fierce place. It’s a giant place. It’s a place of monstrous beauty and endless dark and glimmering light. And you have to work really, really, really hard to get there, but you can do it.”
Cheryl Strayed
Dear Reader,
This is not the best I have ever written, but I know if I don’t post it, it may sit unsaid for too long a time. I know I am supposed to continue to post these because there are people waiting to read them. So here we are, again.
Written with minimal, editing, almost stream-of-consciousness.
Here is another “telling on myself”: today I couldn’t remember if I had published this flailing on the page. It is a newly minted Sunday afternoon and I have decided to do some light editing as this day progresses.
It is a mystery: why have I steadfastly avoided talking, writing, even thinking about healing? It has easily been for the better part of – I’m guessing for years now. I don’t even know how long.
Maybe it was because a place I used to go regularly incorporated “healing” in its name and when it became a more destructive place to me rather than constructive place to be?
Maybe it is because I equated healing with the unpleasantness of my own experiences with cancer?
Perhaps the mystery is my relentless running or turning away from pain: one heals from pain. Healing is a result of pain. Perhaps my subconscious mind believes I have had too much pain and healing is braided into pain and haven’t I had enough of that already?
Somehow in negating the healing, I also managed to negate the beauty of healing, the beauty of process and oftentimes the beauty discovered as a direct result of pain.
There was a time when I seriously avoided pain above all, yet ironically I also embraced natural childbirth with a vengeance.
I avoided confrontations yet I also thought it was fun to get up on stage at my advanced age and highly imperfect appearance.
I advocated, consistently and constantly like a weeble that won’t fall down, I got battered and bruised not physically but emotionally and spiritually and I volunteered for this.
As I said, none of it makes much sense but as Cheryl Strayed said in our opening quote, healing is a place of monstrous beauty, endless dark AND light. I love the paradox she states.
I also am not sure about how hard we have to work at healing. Perhaps it is an argument over words or my deflection of pain again. Here’s the thing: there is healing even in opening up the conversation here.
Nonetheless, from this perspective we simply rise from wherever we are to be brave enough to open our arms and accept what falls into them, without turning away or deeming it “too” anything.
I am re-embracing healing on a variety of levels.
In keeping my heart, mind and soul open to what is calling me I acknowledge healing is refreshing, invigorating, dare I even say pleasant?
Ironically enough, if you had asked me a month ago about healing, I would have given you a very shallow answer. Now that I’ve opened my arms, the gifts – and challenges – have been tumbling toward me and I have been laughing and crying and moaning and nodding my head all the way along.
What are your experiences with healing?
Talk to me in the comments, or if you would benefit from going deeper, let’s have a conversation. Here is a link to request a transformational coaching conversation session, please visit here.. My gift to you.
Julie JordanScott, the Creative Life Midwife, is a writer, a poet performer, a Creativity Coach, A Social Media Whiz and a Mother of three. One of her greatest joys include loving people into their greatness they just aren’t quite able to realize yet. She spent a year working as a leader of an Instagram Group and is now leveraging that experience to create a learning workshop/playshop experience about instagram based on having fun called Summer Lovin’ with Instagram. Click this link to find out more.
