I sit here writing, humbled, yet again, by this windy and wild ride that I call recovery. A process of embodiment that encapsulates my lifetime and has consumed my life. Literally. I feel humbled, brought to my knees, and irrevocably in love with myself in a new and foreign way. I have shown my true colors, yet again, to myself and the world in the darkest of nights and the lightest of days…and, I prevail.
Altered. Humbled. Aligned. Embodied. Alive.
Grateful for all of the lessons that this layer has brought and assured that my message must be transmitted. I do not feel sorry for myself – I am not a martyr. I am a warrior in the deepest sense of the word and I am proud to say that I live my life authentically. I am exposed, raw, and ALIVE. I am not perfect, not by a long shot, but what is perfection really? I am in recovery and I probably always will be to some degree AND I choose every single day to show up. No matter what.
These past few weeks have been hard, I am not going to lie. I have been brought to my knees over and over and over again and I have remained there.
But definitely altered.
Definitely a bit confused as who this person is that is becoming.
Definitely longing for ground in moments where the foreign has reined and I cannot find that ground.
I have cried frequently, I have eaten more abundantly, I have reached for my creature comforts often, I have chosen to talk to friends while walking rather than myself. And, I have been feeling some pain. I have been aware of the discomfort being unearthed from the depths of my psyche – without explanation.
I have allowed myself to hop on that surf board and ride the waves….some of the biggest thus far…without judgment or the need to label. Without interest in “fixing” myself as I am well aware that I am, in fact, not broken.
I have tapped into yet another layer of self-acceptance – an inner knowing that everything is really OK – in fact, it is more than OK – all is quite good. I am moving through some of the depths of old stories, perhaps generations of messaging – and sometimes it is not pretty.
This one was anything but that.
I feel exposed on a new level. I feel altered. I feel alive.
So, as we continue on this dance of life…taking the necessary steps towards ourselves…towards our wholeness…
Can we remember to embody ourselves lovingly and with kindness?
Can we make the choice every single moment of every day to not abandon the whole of who we are?
To stand close to ourselves even when the pain feels unbearable and we would much prefer to flee the scene?
I believe that this is the path of the warrior woman.
The woman who chooses to stand upright through the pain, to live from her broken heart, and to hold herself close despite the palpable and penetrating need to run and numb.
Recovery is an opportunity to unearth oneself, to embody oneself, to love those around us for their imperfections just as we long to be loved for ours.
Recovery is a process without an ending.
It is a willingness to love and be loved…without conditions…without borders or barriers. It is an opportunity to get to know oneself in the depths of everyday life. Recovery is a declaration. It is not a path for the faint or weary and demands ALL of us to show up – every single aspect of who you are must be on board for this dance.
It requires faith and courage….the willingness to be exposed…the willingness to fall down and the strength to pull oneself up again.
And again and again.