Rising From Ash
“The part of us that has to be burned away is something like the deadwood on the bush; it has to go, to be burned in the terrible fire of reality, until there is nothing left but . . . what we are meant to be.”
- Madeleine L'Engle
I was thinking about healing. The word healing sounds so soothing, and it can be. However, healing from trauma, and healing a mindset, is not for the feeble, for it requires self-inflicted pain and death. It requires a breaking of the bones, so to speak, so they can realign and heal properly, and you have to muster the gumption to do the breaking and setting yourself. It requires facing your demons; facing all the things that bring you shame, pain, and guilt. It requires facing the night terrors that wake you in the middle of the night, whimpering in dread. It requires brutal honesty and a willingness to grow from the criticism of that honesty. It requires acceptance, work, and dedication. It requires courage and strategy to choose yourself and navigate your inner and outer world. It requires the risk of losing everything and everyone to choose yourself and to choose peace.
Since I started healing I gained my legs and found my voice. I gained perspective, confidence, peace, health, and positivity. I deepened my connection with God. I found forgiveness, acceptance, and appreciation of myself and for others. I learned to live in the moment, and I learned about love in its many forms; love of self, love of humanity, and love of life.
However, along the way, I took further hits, and it set me back a few rungs. It was a strange time of getting knocked down, being lifted back up and surprised with serendipitous, magical events, and then those lovely things blowing up in my face, and getting knocked down again and right back up, on repeat. The last few blows knocked me down and out. I’ve been in self-isolation since then; my own self-inflicted lockdown. Just working as much as I can, trying to figure out how to get back on my feet and not rely on anyone else. Not knowing how to proceed, but trying everything I can think of and trying not to worry about it. Admittedly, once in a while I do, and, when I do, I’m gripped by fear and loneliness. It feels as though I can’t even breath and the tears just stream down my face, sometimes I don’t even realize I’m crying because my mind is stuck in a vicious loop or lost somewhere.
Sometimes I feel like a cat that hates water that accidentally fell into a cold swimming pool and I’m treading and treading but starting to sink. I’m in shock and freezing, my legs and arms are going numb. I’m not able to get my head above water to breathe long enough. I’m exhausted. Trying to tread and tread, and I’m close to the ledge but I can’t climb up, and at this point it feels as though even if I could I’m too tired to lift myself. People can see me, but they either see past me or they stare and quietly enjoy the show, curious to see what happens next. Just like in a nightmare where you’re trying to scream and no sound comes out, or are being chased and you remain stationary or hardly move. Funny; a nightmare within a nightmare. Life is like that sometimes.
It’s in the solitude, in the deafening quiet, that your soul squirms, rages, and screams. It’s in the solitude that you find the essence of the great Creator, God, Universe (whatever resonates). It’s in that quiet in the midst of the storm that you find what you are made of. That you slay demons. It’s after the storm has come to pass and the sweat and tears have dried, that you find the gentle, soothing healing. The lovely transformation. Tranquility. Confidence. Determination. Hope.
It’s in the solitude that I have found my resolve. That I have faced my fears. That I have made decisions about what I will and will not tolerate. I have suffered many dark nights of the soul. I have “died” so many times. I have broken all my bones and reset them. I have burned to ash and I have risen. Time and again, and I will continue to do so over and over. Because each time I face new demons that took the place of the ones I have slayed, each time I break my bones, each time I burn, engulfing myself in flames, I am tempered and I am reborn. Each version of me better than the one before; the same and somehow changed forever.
Whatever you are going through, and however it is affecting you, I encourage you not to simply go through the storm or run from it. Instead, walk in bravely, with purpose and determination, armed and ready and don’t come out until you slay whatever titans are causing the tempest. I can almost guarantee that you will emerge battered and worn, but also re-invigorated and stronger than you went in.
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This post may reflect personal experiences, opinions, and/or creative expressions. It is intended for general reflection and inspiration only and should not be construed as professional advice. Please review the Site Policies for more information.
