I don’t often get this intimate, but this is simply where I find myself. Sometimes, our stories help weave our hearts in a way that shifts energy, perspective or direction, so I’m being intentional in sharing this piece.
I've been on a healing journey for over 20 years ~ my initial focus was to heal the trauma of rape. This trauma and other stresses have played for some time with a physical weakness - an advanced scoliosis and hip dysplasia which have been with me since childhood.
The dream I've held is to stand in my power and move forward with grace and ease. I've claimed my power and I know I carry it in a good way. What hasn't manifested - YET - is the other part of the dream - moving with grace and ease. Though I can use these words to describe my spiritual and emotional experience, I rarely use them to describe my physical experience.
I know myself to have a high pain threshold and I often sit with pain and listen to its messages; this has been a rich and revealing experience. I've learned to embrace it in a way that allows me to be present for others and to find joy in the moment. I've followed closely my inner guidance to persist through some excruciating rehabilitation of a hip surgery which has now lasted over 2 years ~ my energy and attention being pulled to the hurt in my body while knowing that strengthening under-used muscles can only move me in a good direction. Some who are close to me watch with angst and upset, and have encouraged me to choose a gentler route. But to unwind a scoliotic pattern and begin to use muscles that have atrophied is simply not gentle.
For awhile, the quote “Physician, heal thyself” bothered me. Was it necessary to feel healed in order to be in the healing profession? With training and participation in nearly 80 healing modalities, it’s certainly not the case of me being reticent.
What I’ve learned is that my perceived weakness has become my strength. I can only hear and feel what other bodies are expressing because I’ve been so deeply attuned to my own. I can only connect with the emotions that call for release because I’ve spent years being intimate with my own emotional terrain. Indeed, treasures abound where one may observe weakness.
And then, there’s the surrender ~ releasing the sadness of not being able to skim along the parkway on my bicycle, of not having the ability to hike with my children; breathing into the frustration of having to move slowly, thoughtfully and expending so much daily energy on how to navigate my day with ease, how to balance the tension I hold with an equal amount of relaxation. Yes, surrender has been essential.
There’s no denying this is hard. And yet, I still have this gift of movement and sensation. Though pained, I get to go to the gym 2-3 times weekly and subsequently experience strengthening in my legs. I can walk out my door and sit on the grass. I can feel the breeze on my face, the dampness under my feet. I can hug my children and husband. I can love and laugh and create. And I can dream; I hold deep gratitude for the dream. Yes, this is hard, but life is graced with beauty and joy to provide the necessary balance; it's up to me to seek that out.
I don't know if this will get easier, how long it will take, what it will look like. I'm not fearful of whatever direction I'm given to find that long-sought grace and ease. This path has asked lots of me and may ask more. So, I'm surrendering to this moment, this experience and am opening myself to all the gifts and learnings that come with it.
I do, however, continue to hold the dream and have incredible faith that I will not be denied - whether in this life or that which comes after. How this happens is not up to me; this one I'm placing in Spirit's hands, as I've done with so many other pieces. I'm grateful for the grace and ease with which we can release our burdens and know that all is well ~ and that dreams can become reality.