Why heal? And why now?

Photo by Lionello DelPiccolo

The word ‘healing’ sounds nice, doesn’t it? To me, it conjures up images of calm, open spaces where I feel at peace. I’m smiling. Nothing can disturb me.
The work of healing? Now that’s another thing entirely.

Healing is a grueling thing. A continuous thing. A real and painful thing.
The good news is: Healing is an incredibly liberating thing.

If you’ve been through multiple and complex traumas, the work of healing can feel overwhelming.

A wonderful, well-meaning therapist once asked me to fill in a C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) questionnaire. I filled it in and sent it back to him. He took a look at it. Then he took another look. Then he put it aside and asked me what I feel I need to work on most, because there were too many layers of trauma to simply begin our work based on the questionnaire.
Having done much trauma work already, I heartily laughed this off. It was validating. I was able to affirm that I have been traumatised on several levels. There are multiple triggers flying my way in my everyday life. And yet, I can choose to engage in this inner work. I can choose healing, even if it’s complex and demanding. I can, and I want to.

Why?

Because, as afore-stated, I want to.

Because pushing the pain down, reacting to the pain, and running from the pain only brings me more pain.
Because the longer I sit in my fear and dread, the more I suffer.
Because, like many things, the greatest tension comes before starting what I’ve been putting off.

Think of a task that’s been sitting there, waiting for you to start. A load of clothes that needs washing or folding. An email that needs writing. A loan that needs paying off. A conversation that needs to be voiced.
Much of the tension lies in the waiting. Once you begin, even if it’s uncomfortable, an immense relief often washes over the discomfort.
The words ‘I can’t do it’, ‘I won’t do it’, or ‘I don’t have time to do it’ transform into ‘I can do it’, or ‘I’m doing it’. At times, we may realise ‘I need some help to do it’. Well, that’s what we’re here on this earth for. To lend a hand to one another - to do the thing together.

You may be reading this thinking, ‘I wish it were that easy!’, ‘There isn’t help available!’ or ‘You don’t know how hard it is!’

You may be right. It may not be easy. Sometimes, help may be absent or hard to find. And even if you do have the right kind of help, it is (really) hard. But isn’t it harder to give up the search for support and to squash the instinctive yearning to heal?

If you happen to feel deeply alone with your pain, I invite you to be curious about this. Ask yourself where this emotional solitude or ‘aloneness’ comes from. Ask yourself why resisting help feels more natural or safe or important than inviting it in. Ask curiously, don’t be too hard on yourself. We don’t heal our wounds by picking at them. And all too often, we don’t heal our wounds alone.

Why should you start questioning now? Why stir up the dirt that’s been settling there for so long?

Because the longer we sit on our hands, the longer we swallow our suffering, the longer we deny our painful patterns, the longer it takes for that first step to happen. And once you take that first step, it’s hard to go back to denial and inaction. They start to feel as itchy and uncomfortable as the pain itself. Even a few crumbs of awareness and positive action feel freeing beyond measure.
Even steps that feel like ‘baby steps’ are immensely important. We weren’t worried about baby steps when we were babies, so we needn’t worry about them now. Baby steps are great. They lead to strides and leaps and runs. And to more immensely important baby steps.

I took my first baby steps toward healing 7 years ago, when I became a parent and it became glaringly obvious that my reactions, decisions and overall state of being have a massive impact on the child I’ve decided to raise.
I wish I hadn’t waited that long, but in my case, my child was my catalyst. She brought me to the point where I could run no more. I had to see what was right in front of me.

I stopped running. I sat. I sat and cried on my own. I sat with a therapist, then a counsellor, then another therapist, then a coach. I still sit with them when I need to. And they bring me back to myself again and again. They take what’s inside me and present it to me in a way which targets, fuels and sometimes even speeds up my healing. My yoga instructor does it too, so I return to her as well. If all this sounds cliche, it doesn’t matter to me. Because it’s brought great and deep healing, and healing feels way better than sitting and wondering if it could work for me, or listing the many ways I have decided it won’t work for me.

After years of inner work, am I perfectly and completely healed? Nope!
I get triggered and react out of pain and go through cycles of suffering and yell in anger and cry myself to sleep and experience all the human things.
But one thing I am is better. I feel better. I can navigate this life better. I can hold my experiences, past and present, better. I can breathe easier, even (and especially) through the pain. I can experience real joy alongside the equally real pain.
Through this inner work, I’ve come to know myself and finally started to love myself. I’ve befriended my emotions as sources of valuable information, instead of fighting off my feelings like a swarm of dreaded flies.

And I started with one baby step.
All you really need to commit to is taking baby steps. See where they lead you.
This isn’t a ‘don’t look back’ type of journey. You’ll look back - in deep gratitude for each step you’ve taken.

Image credit: Lionello DelPiccolo