You Can't Bypass The Ugly Stuff
The work never stops. As long as were here there’s always work to do. The inner work continues and when we’re done is when we leave the planet.
This doesn’t mean it always has to be hard. But our beings are vast like the ocean and there will always be depths to explore. I realize that this may come across as seeming like we should be constantly in a state of navel gazing, this isn’t what I mean. What I mean is that avoidance or distance of any trauma does not imply a healing, anything that you avoid or buried deep down simply lies in wait for the time in which you’re ready to face it. Depending on how long you waited to face it can be the ingredients to whether this exploration is easy or hard. We all know people who’ve gone to the grave with things still buried.
My Grandma was a big believer in the burial method; I was once trying to discuss an old family “secret” with her and I asked her if she felt pain or remorse or… anything about it and she replied with “Of course it’s painful to think about! That’s why you bury it deeply and never think about it again! What is the point?!” This is also the same woman who told me that you shouldn’t cry because it makes people uncomfortable. At my Grandpa’s memorial service. I was 10.
Burying the pain stunts your growth. Emotion requires an outlet, emotion=E-Motion= Energy in Motion. The physiological responses to our emotional reactions are built in pressure-valve releases that we’ve been taught to suppress and it does not serve us. How do we suppress these responses? Food, alcohol, drugs, sex… This constant seeking and search for self-improvement. Yes, self-help and therapy can be a drug when you use these as a way to absolve yourself of taking responsibility for yourself and have this continuous search outside of yourself for answers.
So what does this have to do with the work never being done? It’s about that burial of pain, the desire the bypass the ugly stuff (google spiritual bypassing). When I left my marriage 12 years ago, I went into survival mode; I had to provide for my kids, put a roof over their heads, feed them, re-create a career of some sort after having gone on a big professional detour. I put my head down and got to work, each year improving things bit by bit, getting therapy here and there, two steps forward, sometimes one step back, but each year saw an upleveling of how we were living, the kind of work I was doing always with my eyes on the “prize”. Now, as my youngest approaches adulthood, I’m at a place in my life where I can see the the narrow path beginning to widen. I am on track with my purpose, my work is incredibly fulfilling and rewarding, my kids are generally happy, thriving good humans! This is the good stuff, right? This summer, I finally stopped to acknowledge and celebrate the fruits of my labour. And something was missing.
If you stop reading a book halfway through and put it on the shelf, when you come back to it several years later, chances are you won’t pick up right where you left off; you may have to go back a few chapters remember what is happening or in some cases maybe even start at the very beginning. The same thing can happen with traumatic events in our lives; we store them in some corner of our bodies and souls and tell ourselves that we’ll process when we have the time, but mostly we just want to pretend it’s not there. I have not been in a real relationship since I left my marriage. I’ve dated, but I’ve never allowed myself to be vulnerable enough to allow myself to be seen in the context of a real relationship. I didn’t want to because my fear of potential pain overrode all of it. My experience and beliefs were still buried 12 years back even though I am not the broken woman I was then; my trauma response didn’t fully realize that though.
So what is it like to dig up the trauma and look it right in the face? Painful. Scary. Uncomfortable. Anxiety-provoking. It’s a vulnerable state to be in, when you have your shit together in so many other areas, to admit to yourself that you don’t know what you’re doing. It requires humility, patience and compassion. Can you cradle yourself in compassion in the same way you would for others? Digging into those pain points, not to use them as additional ways to beat yourself up and criticize yourself, but to tend to yourself as you would your own child. Can you welcome yourself as a beginner again? Can you allow yourself to learn with fresh eyes?
Can you allow yourself the experience of unfolding and evolving as a human without knowing and controlling the outcomes? This is where the magic happens.
XO Jessica