Today, we took a 2-hour road trip to Valencia, Spain. Upon arrival and about half way through my first glass of vino rosado, rose wine, I wrote this:
I sat in small cafe in a narrow alley in the heart of Valencia.
If you sit still long enough, you can feel the heart beat. Of the city. Of the life and the people that pass through. Every person who walks by reminds you of someone you once knew. Once upon a time, when you were different.
I am overcome with emotion. I can't stop the tears. Everything from the tiny windows of the apartments that overlook the square to the skinny man with long hair that strums his guitar, mumbling words I can't understand.
How did I get here?
How did that woman notice my smile and my tears at the same time, and smile back at me with a gentleness I can feel in my soul.... Those three sisters, they look so much alike, but I can see the differences in their souls. Because I am them and they are me.
Then, as if out of no where, a blind man walks up and begins to play his guitar, but it is not just a song he plays, but his heart plays... Just out there in the open. Take it or leave it. He doesn't care either way. You're either moved by the music, or you're not. That is your choice and none of his business.
All I can hear is, "This is how much I love you, my darling. I have made this moment just for you."
And I weep.
Awkwardly, in the middle of the day, sitting at a cafe, in normal surroundings, I weep. Because God is there and He has invited me to see. To feel. To be.
I am a part of all that I witness. I am the person who walks by, the one who is nervous, stressed, excited, or joyful. I am the one who drinks to ignore and the one who drinks to feel more.
I am the one who walks into the ancient cathedral and weeps at the feet of the statue of the Crucifix. I am that. I feel that.
Valencia, my darling, you ignited something inside me. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
I will seek you in all my travels, in all my adventures. May I always find a glass of vino rosado that brings me to tears
Healing does not feel good. And if you believe that it’s supposed to feel good then you are setting yourself up for a lifetime of suffering.
Because if you get to the point that you recognize that you need healing and then you start taking steps to work towards that moving target, you will stumble early on and give up. A soon as it starts feeling unpleasant.
Before you even start the journey, understanding that healing does not feel good is so absolutely necessary and the only thing that will keep you on your path.
Physical, emotional, mental or internal. Healing. Does. Not. Feel. Good.
Healing does however, feel different than causing harm. So, it’s a different felt sensation in the body than whatever you’ve experienced in the past.
I understood all of this in my mind as a concept before I started my recent trek into healing my belly. But over the last few days, I have actually experienced with my body this notion that healing doesn’t feel good.
(The quickest and easiest way to learn is to first understand something in the mind as a concept or idea, and then have an actual felt experience in the body that solidifies your understanding of whatever that concept is. More on that in another post.)
What I have learned is that in an attempt to save me from suffering, my brain turned off the connection to my belly. So basically over the last 2 decades, I haven’t been able to actually feel what was happening in my belly.
I noticed symptoms, but I had no neurological understanding of the intensity of what was going on in my body.
When I started my journey into healing my body, I set the intention to learn about myself more thoroughly. I began taking steps but still couldn't fully feel what was happening.
But almost 2 weeks ago, the whole belly and digestive system just came back online, in an instant, out of nowhere.
It was as if someone plugged in the electrical connection from the belly to the brain.
And that shit hurt, man. And it still hurts.
But if you can sit with the pain, if you can honor and respect the body as it repairs the damage, you will be rewarded tenfold.
The only thing worse than feeling pain is feeling nothing at all.
Keep going. You’re doing a great work.
I was diagnosed with depression at the age of 15 and was on antidepressants for more than half of my life.
I started having intense panic attacks in college. (Usually involving marijuana - but I ignored that little contributing factor.)
I have fought tooth and nail against laziness, sleepiness, lethargy, lack of motivation and stuckness for as long as I can remember.
My mind was sick. That was the agreed upon "truth". That was my reality. It was a "chemical imbalance." It was out of my control.
Just medicate her and tip toe around her emotions.
"Coincidentally", I also started having digestive issues in my teens. IBS, bloating, stomach cramping, and intense pain. (Usually involving bread and soda, but I ignored those little contributing factors, too.)
I didn't know my body was weeping from the inside. Begging to be cared for.
I looked "healthy" in the mirror, so that's what really matters right?
Well now I am 33. And just in the last month I have come face-to-face with the destructive patterns of how I have treated my body for almost 2 decades.
I have a long road ahead on my journey to health, but here is what I have learned.
One, because this is on my mind/heart/soul and this is my blog, so you get what you get. ;)
Two, because if you are suffering in any capacity, you have the power and authority to fix it.
Whether it be mind or body, you are capable of healing yourself.
Believing you can be healed is the first step.
Believing you can do it your damn self is the second.
After that, you're ready for your freakin' journey, man.
I'll keep you posted on how we go. I am already noticing such a tremendous difference in myself, my life, my mind, my mood, my motivation, my relationships, my suffering (or lack of)..... soooo, I think it's working.
What need your loving-kindness? Your body or your mind??
That was a trick question. The answer is both.