“These mountains that you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.” – Najwa Zebian
A few months ago I became a yoga instructor. During our training we were given so much information about what to expect, but there has been one surprising aspect of this role. During each class, I offer a challenge or some sort of inspirational speech to my students. Without fail, shortly after teaching I am tested on what I taught. Almost as if the universe is asking me, “Are you willing to walk the path you are leading others on?”
During a class last week, I was telling the students of how fulfilling our purpose is often dependent on our healing. To fully step into the mission we were created for we must first allow healing to take place within us. How could we lead people out of the darkness if we have not first found our own way? I then spoke of how we often suppress the healing because it causes so much fear as it often requires stepping into the unknown.
The week following that lesson, my life seemed to be riddled with tests on this subject. One in particular included someone who I had been romantically involved with in my past reaching out and inviting me to come see him. Initially, I had agreed to see him on Friday night. When Friday came around, I felt uneasy about it and ended up changing my plans by going to my usual spot instead. My reasoning behind this was I did not want to reopen the past, instead I wanted to spend the night laughing, dancing, and enjoying time with my friends. While driving to meet them I was so proud of myself for feeling like I passed the test of temptation to play with fires of the past. Little did I know, passing that test was going to painfully reward me with closure to a different chapter.
Last year, I held back on publishing my book for 2 reasons. When I announced last month my intention to publish it, I still had not found clarity on one of those reasons, but I believed the clarity would come. That reason is found in this note I wrote in my phone on August 16, 2018:
Today I’ve decided to not publish the book. Once published, it would immortalize the story of how at 28 years old I have already met and lost the love of my life. While he has been a major influence in my life and my awakening, the book is not finished yet. Either I have not actually met the love of my life, or I have not actually lost him. Either way, this story is not
On Friday night, less than ten minutes after arriving with my friends this man I am referring to in the note walked through the door. It had been almost a year since we saw each other face to face. When I saw him I became completely expressionless and responded to my friend who was asking if I was okay by saying, “Well, the man I love just walked in…haven’t seen him in almost a year…no big deal, right?” The details of what happened after that are not important, what is important is what happened when I left.
By the time I reached my car, I was hit with an overwhelming feeling of anxiety, emotions, and pain. I couldn’t even find the strength to start my car, let alone drive. There was something in me that needed to be drawn out, so I pulled out my phone and began writing. At one o’ clock in the morning, sitting in a parking lot, I was finally given the clarity to write the final entry of my book.
Was the night painful? Yes. Did it feel like three knives were twisting in different directions through my heart? Absolutely. Did I handle the encounter with grace? Not at all.
But…did I gain the clarity and closure I had been asking for? Yes.
The clarity came not only from how he looked at me and treated me, but also from seeing the part I have played in this silly game. In the past I have been hit with spurts of healing from what I perceived he had done to me, but this round of healing also turned my focus on what I have done to him. Perhaps this is what made the encounter so difficult…it didn’t only trigger me about his actions, it also triggered me strongly about my own. The only words I wish I had said to him are, “I forgive you for what you’ve done to me, and I am sorry for what I’ve done to you.”
If given the opportunity to relive Friday, I would do it all again. Because while it would have been very easy for me to signal my friends and silently leave as soon as he walked in the door, the words I had spoken in class a few days prior rang in my conscious awareness, “Avoiding your healing does not only harm you, it harms those who you were created to help.”
Healing is a process so I cannot tell you this encounter completed my healing, but it certainly accelerated it. There have been several instances since then when I have been deeply triggered about us, the difference is unlike in the past there is no longer the temptation to suppress it because there is no part of me that believes in the connection anymore. The only reason I held on so long is because deep down there was a piece of me that always had faith our story would end differently. Friday night, that piece of me died.
Yet, with each death comes grieving. With the grieving comes healing. With the healing comes inspiration. With the inspiration comes freedom.
So, I guess I have shared all of that to say this - If you want to be healed don't run from it when it comes your way. I promise you this; if you can survive the hurt, you can survive the healing.