Doing the work

As I sit here wrapped in my thoughts, I am acutely aware of my body. All too often, we have left our bodies before we were ever given the chance to become acquainted with it. We are mere expressions of abuse, neglect + abandonment frequently being reminded of our past as we casually move throughout the world. Most of us were taught to suppress enormous amounts of information in exchange for love or care. Our trauma has played out in the desires we have that are fundamentally disproportionate to the comfort we require daily. The critical issue with quelling our triggers is often we cannot. We must become familiar with the vibrations that remind us that we have never fully recovered.

This moment in my life is a continuous journey to heal myself + get underneath the emotion so I can capture the right word that depicts what I may be experiencing. I recognize that I am a product of undocumented effects of pain recycled over + over again. So, as I use language as a tool, I inevitably transform the lives of others just by wielding my truth for good. Its how I disrupt a diagnosis that would typically keep most distressed; yet I break free each day I speak of healing. I have learned not to attach myself to the chaos of my trauma or anyone else’s but rather utilize the range of my experiences to capture the various stories that are still untold. I pray I’m succeeding.

This season of my life is quiet. I am intentionally moving throughout the world with my head down + my mind focused completely on healing. I understand that most people are dealing with pain even if they aren’t acknowledging it. However, I am turning over every stone + unlocking every door because I know that trauma lies dormant. It lingers in the discomfort that we work so hard not to address + it remains rooted in the ancient beliefs of the family dynamics we grew up in. Despite all the things we attempt to cover up, there is always a doorway that invades the stillness of our lives with the accusations of a wound that never quite healed.