Healing is Hard Work.

These are some of the reasons why. No, it’s not just you.

Alright. Here we go again. I didn’t plan on writing this article today, but it’s emerging, and I can’t concentrate on anything else until I get the words out. I absolutely don’t want to share this. I lost that argument. My soul says it’s part of the assignment and that if these words help just one person, it will be worth the discomfort.

Fair warning. I’m going deep and this will get heavy fast. Be discerning. Is this something you want to read at this moment?

I see articles here on Substack about a post that takes a writer from the sidelines into the mainstream spotlight overnight. I read other articles from overnight superstars about bizarre responses from readers, including criticism, advice giving, and stalker-ish behavior from the peanut gallery. I eat, pray, love that this is not the week Elizabeth Gilbert discovers me because I’m not feeling up for that sort of attention.

Ugh!

If you’re going to keep reading, please don’t be a jerk. It’s not easy to be vulnerable and transparent on the interweb. And for the love of all that is holy, please do not offer suggestions. I don’t want your advice, regardless of how qualified or well-meaning it may be.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

I’ve entered a new phase of my healing journey.

Yay. 😬

It’s time to mourn my childhood. The wounds I suffered and the pain I continue to bear because my parents did not have the psychological wherewithal to provide for my basic emotional needs need to be grieved.

This is tough to write about as it can seem like a betrayal to suggest that the people who gave me the gift of life did a poor job of caring for me. It’s a tricky situation. They couldn’t give what they didn’t have. I’ve mostly moved past blame, but that doesn’t erase the consequences of growing up feeling like I wasn’t lovable or worthy of having needs or feelings or, God forbid, desires.

Having those beliefs installed in my formative years trickled out into all areas of my life, causing struggle and internal conflicts that have had devastating effects. It’s taken a lot of effort for me to come this far on my personal healing quest. Every day brings new challenges. The only things that come naturally are doing healing sessions, teaching Reiki, and writing. Probably because I’m plugged in to Source Energy then. I’ve yet to master bringing this magic into the activities of my everyday life.

Posting this is also complicated because I don’t want to be pitied. Yuck. That’s really uncomfortable. Yes, I had a difficult beginning in life. It’s what started me on this healing journey. My friends who had it easy in their early years skate by life on the surface, drinking cosmos, visiting tropical islands, never having a reason to go deep or do the inner work. I wouldn’t trade places with them for anything.

It’s also difficult to share here because I know I come from a place of relative privilege. I had a middle-class upbringing, with family dinners every night, flute lessons, and birthday parties. I didn’t want that stuff, but then, nobody asked me. Other kids had it worse. I wasn’t beaten and never went hungry for more than the time it took to pour a bowl of Cheerios. It’s sometimes difficult to reconcile that while my scars are invisible, the damage remains, decades later.

Sometimes it hurts more because the pain was hidden behind a shiny happy façade. But I don’t want to get into comparison of what type of abuse or neglect is worse than any other. It all sucks. I’m only here to tell my story, not to tell you how to feel about it or how to navigate your own path.

Why now? Good question. No doubt my recently family visit stirred the pot. This is also the season for doing inner work and the astrology is in favor of letting go of the past. While I’ve been exploring healing for 30 years, I guess I needed to get some steady footing before I could go this deep. I’ve been preoccupied with a pesky series of physical pains, sleep challenges, and hormonal wonkiness the past few years that prevented me from looking inwards for very long.

Primarily, though, I’m writing this because while I was trying to meditate, the words insisted on being recorded and I’ve learned to give them an outlet. It’s just another soul assignment that isn’t appealing, but likely has healing potential.

Perhaps most importantly, I needed to spend some time consistently regulating my nervous system. I wasn’t ready to go into mourning until now. Yes, I’ve been routinely honoring my feelings and giving them space and expression. But mourning is a whole new level that requires a solid foundation of remaining compassionate, curious, and present.

Here’s why that’s essential since a lot of eyes glaze over when I bring this up in conversation. We can’t do deep inner work without the capacity to self-regulate.

Why? It triggers our defenses and then we get highjacked by our biology. It’s impossible to focus on anything meaningful when adrenaline is pumping. Try as we might to override our instincts, it’s a losing battle that saps our energy.

When I tap into the hurt I felt as a 3-year-old, my fight/flight/freeze response kicks in. I want to disappear, collapse, numb out, distract myself, or shut down completely. This instinctual reaction is POWERFUL. I used to think meditation was torturous. That’s because I was trying to sit still while my body was yelling RUN. This inner conflict is counterproductive at best, debilitating at worst.

When I’d turn within, I’d find something unpleasant, and the defense mechanisms would kick in. In no particular order, that can look like: turning to cookies and ice cream, booze, scrolling social media, picking fights on social media, smoking pot, shutting down emotionally, organizing closets, meaningless conversations, shopping, more cookies, overexercise or excessive cleaning (never my thing, but I see it in others), worrying about things outside our control, criticizing everyone else for doing everything wrong, Netflix, those damn cookies, what am I forgetting? Any activity or substance, no matter how healthy, can be used as an escape.

Until I learned to recognize these behavior patterns, I was at their mercy. I’d start off wanting to tend to my wounds and instead find myself urgently shopping for stuff I didn’t need. Now I can witness this with compassion and use my tools to come back into the moment and stay present with what I’m feeling.

Another deterrent has been the distraction of needing to understand. Understanding is not healing. Yes, it’s helpful to know why we react the way we do to certain circumstances, but only if we use that information to fuel change.

Attachment disorders, developmental trauma, the mother wound, the father wound, codependency, complex trauma, worthiness issues, body image disorders, disordered eating, poor self-esteem. None of these are labels that I choose to keep for myself, but it sure can be appealing to identify as such and collapse into victimhood. That would be a loss of my power, though, so instead I opt to call myself a work in progress.

Yet another obstacle is the desire to turn to a so-called expert. To find someone who is qualified to “fix” this and sit in the back while this coach/counsellor/guru/shaman/therapist drives the healing machine. Tempting, no?

I’m being shown very clearly that this is my work: to be present with the grief within me. To witness it and turn it over to the divine for healing. Yes, I can get support, but I can’t outsource this job just because it scares me.

Never have I been more grateful to have Reiki on my side. Not only does it help me regulate my nervous system when survival responses try to steal the show, but it also prevents me from getting lost in the shadows, over-identifying with the pain, giving up, or giving away my power to a predator disguised as a helper. It helps to reveal the next steps, to melt the frozen emotions, clearly see the outdated defense mechanisms and limiting beliefs, and stay connected with my soul’s guidance.

I don’t like to talk about this publicly either, as I fear it will draw to me hordes of folks with similar suffering, looking for a place to dump their problems. Yes, Reiki can help you. Yes, I can provide Reiki for you. No, I cannot take on your burdens and miraculously cure them while you sit back and scroll through Instagram.

If you want to be an athlete, your coach can guide you, but you have to show up to work out and practice. A lot. Same with learning a language, an instrument, any skill. Healing is a lot like that. People can share their maps with us, but we need to make the journey ourselves. Sometimes it seems like it’s an uphill trek, in the snow, without any shoes. But the view from the top of that mountain is more fantastic than anything we could imagine from the bottom.

Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have a date with a box of tissues and a sad song playlist.

P.S. I wrote this article several days ago and have been meeting with my grief. It hasn’t been fun, but it isn’t overwhelming either, which was one of my concerns. I’ve been working with a mantra/pranayama/guided meditation for processing stuck emotions, and it’s been really helpful. Given the numerous tales I’m hearing from others slogging through old stuff, it looks like I’ll be sharing that practice for paid subscribers later this week.