Healing is Messy: Step into the Arena

I am starting this post with, I am good and I’m in a good place. But, healing is messy and it is unattractive and it is an individual process, and as a result, can be quite shameful. Mental health still has a deeply ingrained stigma attached to it that is entirely unwarranted and socially unhealthy for us, people.

My perception of my childhood is that it was traumatic. I have resolved a lot of the deeper stuff, but every now and again, another layer becomes ready to be peeled off and I need to put the work in to do that. I’ve been doing this work on myself for thirty or so years.

I live a blessed life because I worked hard to create it. I’m a strong, wise, resilient and empowered woman because I do the work and own my truth.

I would love for it to be finished, but it isn’t.

Last weekend, I was at an intensive training weekend for tuning forks for my Diploma in Sound Healing. It unlocked another hurt that needed to be healed.

Healing is a process.

First, there was the unlocking of a deep hurt. I cried and cried and sobbed and ugly cried and then cried some more.

It took a few hours of just sitting in this teary grief before I felt an old anger pattern emerge. Anger that no one loves me, anger that no one reaches out, anger that I give so much to others and it never feels balanced or reciprocated or fair. Just plain pure unadulterated anger. Unreasonable, unfair, childlike and fully ego based and driven.

Then, well, then came the heaviness, the numbness, the desire to run away, the embarrassment, the shame, the fear that you’ve fucked your entire life up and scared everyone away because you are ungrateful for all that you do have and all the people you’ve shared time with throughout your life. And really, shouldn’t you be over this by now.

So, at this point, self care became important. For me, this means one breath at a time, and time for the soul to reconnect to source in nature. I did this yesterday. I left, breathing deeply again with a headache lol. But, balanced and calm.

This enabled me to work and to start sharing my energy again, in small doses with armour around my heart. Just the reality.

Back in this space, I can ask questions: what is the root cause of this grief, this recurring pattern, this destructive and intense emotional response?

The answers come. On the toilet this time.

Abandonment.

As a child, ideally, we feel supported and loved and safe and protected.

I didn’t feel this way.

The narrative I crafted for myself was that I wasn’t worthy of being held safely, I wasn’t valuable, I wasn’t good enough just as I was.

I give to receive. That’s the ugly truth of it. In recent times, I’ve shifted that motivation significantly and have surrendered a lot of that attachment to expectation, but obviously, not enough. I had never dig into the root cause, around it, sure, but not into its marrow.

The time has come for me to do just that.

From the abandonment fears, deeply connected to it, is a strong sense of betrayal and trust.

As I reflect to my miscarriage, I see these patterns and threads weaving together. As I reflect on the Investigation, again, these threads interweave. Now, my life is ready to do the deep soul work to correct and rebalance this imbalanced perception.

Before I could do that though, I needed to relive it one more time, out of a crisis situation, that I could understand it without the immediate intensity of emotion.

I share my journey because I think it’s important that we all share our stories to heal, not just for ourselves, but for past generations and for our world.

We don’t talk about the darkness and heaviness in ourselves and our world enough. We hide in it. And we do this because too many people don’t understand it. And we are scared of being labelled or stigmatized it judged.

A very well intentioned friend said that I was better than this. I’m human. I’m a work in progress. I have many layers and many faces. My strength in spirit comes from me standing in my truth. I still feel the shame of this though. I acknowledge it and tell it to fuck off because I think more positive comes from me doing this, than from hiding it. Time might prove me wrong. But I don’t believe so.

My truth isn’t always tidy; it’s very often a very messy conglomeration of different things. It takes courage to be real in a world where real seems to be a dirty word. I own my trauma and I own the impact. I’ve lost good people from my life as a result of my messy truth; I am an acquired taste and I can be intense. I can be mean and bitchy and ego driven. I can be selfless and wise and so loving.

I am all.

And I make no apology for that.

So, that time I miscarried …

I am spending the weekend at an intensive for my Diploma in Sound Healing. No idea how I make my words seem so light when snot covers my face and I’ve shed so many tears that my cheeks are hard and stinging, but whatever.

We started the day by going within and listening to our nervous system. Sounds bizarre, but massively interesting. Mine was making all sorts of sounds and there was a lot of darkness and heaviness and sadness. Also, bizarrely, two skeleton heads. This was all very interesting to me because I was feeling quite zen. The external was not reflecting, or even conscious of, the internal machinations of my nervous system.

The day continued and all was okay. We finished with a sound bath that was so beautifully orchestrated, my consciousness left and I was no longer in the room. It was divine.

I left to drive home, feeling very very zen. Returned some messages and started driving. About fifteen minutes into the trip, I started crying, like from nowhere. And I had no idea why.

I’ve been going through a massive transition, and I know I’m shedding all that no longer serves me so that I can ascend, so I surrendered to it and kept driving, just feeling, not overthinking.

Arrived home, had a hot shower, posted a video and Facebook post, ate dinner, ate some shit, watched an episode of Five Bedrooms, started crying again and haven’t stopped.

My thoughts went to friendships. I’m not very good at them. I’m quite dysfunctional, truth be told. And having lived quite an odd life, I’m not married either. I don’t really know how to be with people. I feel like I overstep sometimes, don’t step in enough at others, and pretty much have always just got it wrong. I overthink or over expect and just don’t get it. I also give a lot because I feel I need to so that I’m ‘normal’.

When I miscarried, I told people I had started bleeding. Realistically, that’s all I probably told them. I think I mentioned it was profuse. I didn’t understand it was a miscarriage. I was so cranky for flying when I was trying to get pregnant, knowing it could cause a miscarriage.

Anyway, I thought I’d reached out for help by telling people there was no pregnancy, but no one came. It was a hard time for me. I was alone in a way I never had been. Except for maybe the sexual abuse. Maybe, just maybe, that connection forced the shut down that has been in play ever since. And there were some who offered, but I didn’t know how to say yes.

Tonight, I’m lying here, thinking about how awkward I am in social situations and how I really don’t get friendship because I’ve always fucked it up one way or another, and then I jump to the extreme alone-ness I felt in those two days after I lost my baby.

I think it scarred me. Irreparably. I don’t believe anyone will come. I deal with stuff differently as a result. In a good way. I use my journey to empower and support others. Balanced perception.

I’m terrified of expecting too much from people. I’m terrified I’m getting things wrong and not doing it properly. I am having those feelings where you wish you could just pack the car up and spend the rest of your life running. Meh.

I have been told that I don’t reach out. I do. I just don’t know how to do it so that people get that I’m reaching out. After my miscarriage, I spoke to people about how upset I was that they didn’t come to me.

They all said one of two things: I usually do things on my own or if everyone didn’t know you needed help, then it’s on you for not expressing it clearly.

Tonight, I release that narrative. I surrender that story. I surrender the pain of the miscarriage and not being a mother. I surrender that I’m a failure and not good enough and not deserving of better. I surrender the guilt I felt that I had hurt so many people. I surrender the shame of being broken for so long. I surrender the anger, the unbelievable pain, the frustration, the need and desire for people to be any different to what they are. I surrender that I don’t think I am worth more than this collective misery.

I accept that I am here to serve, to empower, to heal, and I am grateful for all that I have learned through all of my life experiences.

I have fought many battles, many injustices throughout my life, and I’ve fought them alone. I am strong. I do support other people. But I sold myself for less than I was worth, and I surrender the story of victim that enabled that to happen.

I am in transition. That is my new certainty. I do not need to know where I am going. I just need to look for and heed the sign posts.

First though, I’ll feel this old pain through a new narrative, and then I’ll surrender it before I dust my crown off.

And then I’ll blow my fucking nose.

Being A Girl

When did being a girl become such a bad thing again?

A friend posted the ‘Like A Girl’ video this morning. It’s been years since I watched it. I had a cry. Even I use language that is derogatory to girls or the perception of girls. And women. What the.

Why do I think that’s okay? Why am I not more conscious about the impact of my language?

I’m happy to be a woman. Proud to be me.

I’m soft. I’m fierce. I can defend myself. I can shower the world in love. I’ve been battered and bruised. I’ve risen. I am everything in one body, one soul. I’ve battled demons and triumphed. I’ve cried, raged and laughed. I’m funny. I’m smart. I’m beautiful. I’m me.

This past three weeks has been full on for my brain and heart. I have chosen to surrender my life to service, whatever that may look like. Whatever fulfills my life’s purpose, I am open to doing. I have no real idea what this will look like, but I’m open and I’ve surrendered.

I am saying yes to opportunities that sit right. And that’s about it. That’s all I can do in surrender. I am trusting that I will he guided to what serves me and the greater good, and I’m dismantling old ways of being and outdated patterns.

And, I’m a girl.

In so many ways, a blessing only.

I can cry and emote and gush, without judgement. I can get angry and scream, without judgement. I can be intelligent and carve my own path, surround myself only with support, and be impervious to judgement. I can be and do and choose whatever I want to be, do and choose.

I am strong – I’ve weathered many storms. I am not angry or bitter or twisted. I love, and I love fiercely, with all that I have. I choose peace over war, when war would sometimes be easier. I choose learning over staying ignorant, when ignorance can be blissful because it requires nothing from us to be. I choose me over others, because I am strong and worthy of all that is good in this life, in this realm, on this Earth.

I am strong. And, I am girl. Woman. Lady. Witch. Sister. Daughter. Aunt. I am me.

A Brave New World

I am so bitterly disappointed by our election result here in Australia, but not for the reasons one might expect.

There really wasn’t a choice. Fear here, fear there, fear everywhere.

If you vote this way, you will lose this or lose that. Meh.

Not one party really presented a hopeful and loving campaign. We were saturated with text messages starting months ago – Big Brother letting us know we have no privacy and no control – money rules us all.

I realise how ridiculous that sounds, campaigns based on fear, because that’s the way it’s been for a long time. And a campaign based on love and hope just seems too utopian ideal to be realistic. But the world that is envisioned by such a campaign is very different to this one.

Imagine – no fear. We all have enough to live the lives we want to live – without greed, without ego, without waste. We aren’t scared of who lives next door, who brushes past us on the street, if we will have enough to make ends meet next week, if a policy will tax money not currently taxed.

Imagine – love and light dictates decisions and interactions. We ask, how will this serve the majority of us, if not all of us? How do we make this a win for all? How can we all benefit from equitably funded education, health, policing and social services?

Imagine – love and compassion. We see a broken person, we ask, how can I hold space so that this person empowers themselves to stand, to rise, to live, again. Instead of bashing them back down, our souls filled with hate and vengeance. We can see another hurting and hold their hand, even if they were previously an ‘enemy’.

And, when someone has fallen as a result of ego and greed and arrogance, we stop to feel their pain and hold their heart so they may learn to see a different way of being. So they may grow and feel the same compassion for others that has been shown to them.

A world where difference and authenticity is valued over all else. A world where we each feel supported to make contributions. A world where we aren’t scared of our own shadows.

My only saving grace is that in my electorate I had a choice. I could choose a hard working and integrous woman. So, I did. So many people did not have that choice. Too many men in politics. Too much arrogance, too much greed, too much ego, too much ‘whiteness’.

I think, yesterday, Australia lost. And would have lost either way. There was no choice between leaders – both have manipulated their way to the top of their respective parties. Both have lead from fear and ego. Neither preach a beautiful vision for our country and our world. Both are short sighted. Neither could be trusted.

And, it would appear, the populace is the same. Gloating that their party won. Small, feeble minds that refuse to see the true cost to all of us of such ignorant perspectives. Attacking people who express compassion for the fallen. Or just a different perspective.

Until there is change in the way we view our system and our world, we are doomed to repeat this cycle. I do not wish for that.

A Messy Mind

This energy work is hard going. I clear space, I protect myself, I do all I am supposed to do. It’s exhausting lol. And, man, it accelerates your own healing so fast. It’s like a fresh punch in the face every week.

I’ve worked with darker energies this week. Not my own. I realised, as a result, how significant the choice to work from light/love is in the way you leave energy where you go.

It took me a while and different strategies to clear the residual energy. Sage, Tibetan bowls, chanting and ultimately, singing. I had the doors open for this process. Then, I grounded myself and went for a walk.

I’ve realised now that when I do a lot or intense energy work, I shake afterwards, throughout my entire being.

I really think I need a spiritual mentor. I’ve sent that request out. There is a lot that I know and a lot that I’m given as I work with and talk to people, but I have questions sometimes and google only takes you so far lol.

I feel like I have a veil in front of my eyes today. It’s the normal working plus the energy work I think. Holding space, as I regard healing work, really can zap you and when you still have to work, it’s hard. I’m grateful, I feel blessed, I’m not whining, just sharing the process. I am sure I’m not alone in this.

Maybe I don’t need a spiritual mentor, but a benefactor who will support me financially whilst I do this work. Or a husband 🤣 either or.

I’m zonked. I’m going to go and buy something nice for lunch and sit under trees for a while. That’ll fix me. Then on Sunday, I’m going to go and collect some rocks. I’m excited about that.

Yes, I’m weird.

Out of the Darkness

Intense past month or so for me. And many others, I know, I feel you.

I have been (and am) in a massive place of transition at the moment. I can feel it – it’s like I’m lost, utterly lost, but know I need to feel that way to be able to shed and leave behind everything that no longer serves me.

As many of you know, I once thought (and for a very long time) that I wasn’t worth very much and I was pretty much an ugly duckling. I’ve had a recent lesson that has supported me in owning and accepting my worth and my beauty (in and out).

I finally believe that I am worthy and deserving to be my best self and have people around me who are striving to create a beautiful inner and outer world for themselves and others.

I feel like I have developed, through the darkness, a stronger sense of why I am here. It’s a little scary – not in achieving it, but in the machinations of how to achieve it.

I have a vision for this world.

A unity and community borne of, and from, love, as well as a deep connection arising from our collective similarities rather than our differences. I believe it is achievable. And I believe the way to get there is through collective healing.

I’ve had to step back from my normal lifestyle to regenerate and repair my energy. At the end of last term, I was completely exhausted – physically, emotionally and at a deep soul level. I tend to give a lot of energy out. All. Of. The. Time.

I have slowed down. I am realising that too much work brings money in, and takes happiness and fulfillment out. For me, in this moment. Money is great. I’m not knocking it. I’m just not wholly fulfilled earning it the way that I am. So, I’ve started pulling back from that. If I don’t believe I am serving people well, I need to step out. It’s hard, but necessary.

I have also realised that I am worthy of a deep and profound love. I do second guess it a bit, but in my core, I am worthy.

I have chatted to a couple of people over the last couple of days, overwhelmed that people can see me as amazing when I’m just being me.

I’ve been me my whole life, and have never been regarded with as much enthusiasm and validation as I have since India in November of 2016. Just recently, it has amped up even more.

My healing intentions for the world are being supported and people are ‘impressed’ by me. Freaks me out. Little girl lost is finding herself. I wish that for everyone.

I’m ready to evolve. Ascending higher. I know that won’t be solitary work. And it will be fraught with challenges for me to learn and grow from. But, I’m learning that there is a larger plan, that I need to be patient, that everyone who enters my life enters to teach me something, and that not everyone is here to stay. And, that’s okay.

A little lost still. Reread a book today and finished another book. Peaceful, but a little lonely. An interesting feeling for me because it’s a foreign feeling. I also feel raw, open and exceptionally vulnerable. Yet, I blog. I’m such a weirdo.

I am grateful for this darker period. I am grateful for the light occasionally flickering to remind me it is temporary. I am grateful for the deep connections I am able to build with people. I am grateful that I have courage. I am grateful that I am me. I am grateful for growth. I am grateful for pain. I am grateful for loveliness. All serve to remind me of where I have come from and where I am.

A Valuable Lesson

I’m back to being self-absorbed (am I ever not 🤔). I cried a lot yesterday. I felt very sorry for myself in parts. Sorry for others in the other parts. I woke up this morning after a long sleep, feeling like I’d been hit by a bus and rolled over by a truck.

No surprises there. When I’m sad, I become self-destructive in the sense that I start to have very high expectations of those around me. So high, that no one can reach them or come close to fulfilling them. The soul sisters had messaged me. They were both awake, with time, and we could unpack the purpose of the shadow self.

I knew there were old behaviour and emotion patterns that needed to be broken, and were so presenting themselves AGAIN. They have reared their heads now because I am in transition and they will not serve me in my next phase. I needed to acknowledge them, wrestle with them, speak to them, and ultimately, love and release them.

Healing work takes time, and I’ve realised, with such busy lives, we don’t tend to make time for it. I used to a lot more than I do now. Ironically, running a healing business takes my time. I grin wryly and shake my head at the folly that is human.

I gave myself permission to not feel guilt when I cancelled my plans today. When the guilt rises, I let it know that it’s okay that today, we put our needs first. And it is okay, even though I feel like I’ve been doing it a hell of a lot, too much, in recent weeks. Then, I chat to my shame and I let it know that it’s okay, we are in transition and we are growing and that causes disruption.

It’s important to walk the talk. I preach at others to do what they need. When they present excuses, I am firm. It is more than okay that I make myself do what I tell others to do because I know it works. So, I have.

Off to Bunnings to grab a few final touches for my meditation space. I realised that just being near the plants released stick parts of myself, so on the way home, I explored roads I’ve never been down (I did think they lead somewhere different, but it didn’t matter that they didn’t go where I thought they would).

Words kept going through my head – you have to become lost to find yourself.

A constant mantra as, mesmerised, I stopped the car to be mindful of and to where I was. I expressed gratitude and kept going, stopping every fifty or so metres to acknowledge the different sights, sounds and feelings.

I was free. I was empowered. I was present.

After hitting the car’s undercarriage on a rock, I was forced to turn around and head back to a road I knew.

I live very close to a national park. It’s one of my soothing places. I don’t go there enough. I’m scared of being raped and murdered and no one finding the body because I’ve turned location settings off on my phone. I know. Welcome to my brain. Residue from childhood trauma.

Today, though, I turned right without hesitation and started the descent to the dried out lake beds.

I love water and I am devastated that there is no water in the lakes anymore (thank you, fracking). However, the bush is still there, and it soothes my soul almost as much as water does. Well, today it did that and more.

There were people eating lunch and I’m avoiding humans to the best of my ability, so I decided to walk down a walking track – just a little way.

Oh my. Forget your pain. Forget your self-obsession. Forget everything. Just be.

I started to feel inspired. Ideas for workshops started to crystallise. Directions became clear. My spirit strength gushed back through my veins and arteries, exploding my heart.

I only felt mildly concerned when some guys on trail bikes were at the head of the path and the other picnickers had gone. I don’t think males appreciate how vulnerable females can feel.

I started the journey home. I felt lighter.

And then, the purpose to the misery yesterday revealed itself. Funnily, I had to feel, really feel, something I believe and something I always say, to the extent it’s the byline for both of my businesses – empower yourself.

Healing is a solo journey. Healers hold space so that you are safe as you journey your healing path. But, ultimately, healing is a solo endeavour. And, it’s scary to do it alone.

I think it’s human nature to want someone else to hold you, to save you, to do the work. To be there, even just to listen and to hold your hand. I also think that that doesn’t really help you brave the healing wilderness and come out the other side, more whole than when you started.

This is MY life. I am responsible for it. I, and only I, am responsible for it. I make choices, as an adult, that dictate my days and my life. I need to walk the path alone so that I can be mindful of everything I experience along the way. Other people can offer their wisdom and their support, but ultimately, I need to do the work to attain my own wisdom.

Personal responsibility and empowering the self.

I know what makes me feel peaceful. It’s nature. When I’m out of balance, and I know when I am, I need to go into nature. But, so often, too often, I don’t. I put the needs of others and my ‘responsibilities’ first. I have dozens of excuses to not do what my soul cries for.

And I face the consequences for not listening.

I am worthy of giving to myself first. Just as you are. In fact, it’s my core responsibility. Without fulfilling it, I am less able to do the things I choose to do for others.

Healed. Lol. Thank you, kind old tree.