Trusting that these are just chapters of my book, versus of my life song. And without these chapters and versus, the book and the song, wouldn’t make sense. It would be incomplete. There would be nuggets missing. I wouldn’t be whole.
Just how I’ve needed all the chapters before me, no matter how painful and confusing and how much part of me longs that they had been different, my story and my song, needed them.
I needed them to make me, not break me. That’s what they were here to do.
Allowing yourself to feel all your feelings – somatically, emotionally. And allowing them to come in the roller-coaster-like way they often do. Allowing tears to fall, and then laughter to follow. Allowing grief to swamp and then joy or playfulness to lift. Allowing your critics a back-seat on your journey towards deep self love and self compassion. And allowing them to be there but know you haven’t done any wrong, because the critics are never gonna completely go anywhere…motherfuckers.
Today, as I was writing, I realised that healing/life feels like the journey of putting together a puzzle. And it’s the process of putting together the puzzle that we experience the highs, the lows, the frustrations. We meet the pieces and the people or the things we know we’ll need in the future but we don’t need right now. We come across bits over and over that we can’t work out where the fuck they go, and we meet bits of ourselves or notice patterns that come round over and over again, until one day something clicks, a piece fits, and we don’t need to revisit it again or for a while – maybe when the puzzle falls apart a bit. The process of looking for the piece we need, the person or thing or element we need in our healing, feels important too. And it can feel hell-of-a confusing, but it’s where we grow. We need to find the piece, the bit of our puzzle, that fits together with the bit we just found. That just clicks. And when we do, we know it, and we can move on…to the next piece!
The end result matters too, and the sense of achievement and the sense of awe and appreciation and respect we gather for ourselves when we get there, is huge. And totally needed. And maybe within the giant puzzle, is a tonne of mini, baby, ones. Like one big fuck-off puzzle that isn’t just made up of one big one…it’s made up of hundreds of pieces that make up hundreds of puzzles, within the one big puzzle of life.
Learning, adopting and practising the art of mindfulness. And weaving it into your daily life and how you connect with your body and daily surroundings.
But…sometimes, I know with ptsd, to be able to actually be in a place to practise mindfulness is healing In itself…sometimes our bodies and our minds just can’t go there. There’s something else in the mix: severe adrenaline overload and trigger-ville.
I’ve learnt to be gentle with myself in times I can’t actually do mindfulness or when dropping into myself sets off triggers left right and centre…it’s during these times that the healing comes from not dropping into myself. But once the anxiety softens – through herbs, supplements and time – when I can catch my breath and practise mindfulness, a deeper sense of healing – and connection – has begun again.
It’s a motherfucking process. A long, intricately beautiful, confusing, and profound one.