Searching for safety, I have traveled the interior world to its depths, and still there is more. Never am I as amazed as when I land on that spot, which took 30 years to describe itself, taking tangent upon tangent finally arriving back where it began. After much psychotherapy, analysis, healing, growing, stumbling, eating lots of chocolate, crying, laughing, drinking lots of coffee, and seeking my way to a life that is truly lived from “glory to glory”, I have learned a few things that I believe are truth – at least for me that is.
- everybody is afraid – maybe not all the time and maybe not of the same thing
- everybody wants HOME. – and at it’s root, home is the same for us all – safety, in the form of, no harm, protection, love, no judgement, guidance, and nurturing care
- everybody needs Love
- everybody needs to belong – like they need food, air, shelter, and water
- everybody needs to believe in something greater than themselves
- everybody sings – maybe not the way the western world deems as beautiful, but definitely the way God hears as perfect
- and NOBODY – at least nobody I have met – doesn’t include themselves in the first 6 “everybodys”
Part of truly healing begins in allowing ourselves to know that we are not the only ones. Part of the “it’s only me” syndrome keeps us in ego, which as I was taught, means, “Easing God Out”.
When we become “one of ” we also become one of the ones who gets to heal.
Isolation is darkness’s way of making sure we never hear the truth because the minute a wounded soul hears “me too”, that soul will begin to open and soften, even if it should attempt to remain closed.
Most of what I write is my “me too” to the world, to everyone who ever felt like they feel as no one ever has, I hope what I write opens the door for, as many as choose to, to never ever feel alone in your pain or your process again. Truthfully, you are not alone. When you sit with as many people as I have over the years you realize that, while the story may be different, the pain is the same. When you keep sitting with people, you eventually realize if it is one person’s story it’s someone else’s story too.
As I sat, in what I had hoped would be contemplative prayer but felt more like frustration with my racing thoughts while asking Jesus to help me focus, I heard myself say, “I want to feel safe”. It felt strange at first, because I do feel safe. My physical self, my daily life, my mind, my spirit, feels no sense of urgency or threat. So, I dug a little deeper, “what? you want to feel safe?” Then it became clear. There is a small part of me which remains even after all of the “work” I have done to heal. She lives from a memory of hurt. She has yet to join the rest of me which has, by grace, been profoundly healed – reconciled with wholeness. As I listened closely I realized she believes, very deeply, that guarantees will keep her from pain. The only problem is, once she is guaranteed one thing she realizes she needs another guarantee and another and another. The fear I have felt and tried to quell has been attempt after attempt to let her know she is safe. She can trust. She can let go. However, this little part is a bit like a wounded animal refusing to come out of it’s crate, shivering in the back corner. So, the rest of me – the healed grown up self and God are gonna do what all good wound healers do. We are going to sit outside of the crate and sing until she knows she can peep her head around the corner and maybe even step out into a whole knew world of freedom.
I refuse to shame myself for the parts that still need lots of love and encouragement. Today I know, they are not all of me, they are just parts of me– all of which are loved by God and on a journey to complete wholeness.