We want to feel better. In fact, we want to feel amazing and
free and enthused. Jazzed. Free. Whole. We want to drop the crap, to be safe
and to feel sound. We want to heal. We want to heal for real. We want to heal
for good.
Healing begins with
tenderness.
I learned this recovering from my unplanned, deeply unwanted
C-Section that left me with, what I deemed my ‘I was sawed in half by
strange men because I’m a broken failure of a woman and I’m a selfish, moody
bitch for feeling anything other than gratitude for the safe birth of my son’
scar. In my effort to heal, as quickly and perfectly as I possible, I found the
beautiful self-care technique, Maya Abdominal Massage, that I faithfully
performed every day I could (still do twice a week). I’d begin the passage
called ‘digging for potatoes,’ and you bet I’d go rummaging around my guts for
those potatoes, intensely kneading my belly, face clenched, determined to root
up any lumps of scar tissue, and while I was at it, any buried trauma, denial,
self-hatred, fear, etc., pummeling myself trying to erase a wound.
The day I caught myself ‘caring’ for my scar with vigorous
self-bullying, I had to laugh at my misguided, ironic technique. We want to heal. We want to repair the tear, wipe off, feel
better, and move on with our life experience backpack fuller. But taking aim at our hurts (or at another
person’s) with a closed fist doesn’t work. In fact, it makes things worse,
reinforcing imbalance, magnifying faulty thinking, further inflaming swollen
tissues, hardening the injury with more and more scar tissue.
Healing is
transformation. It is change, movement, regeneration, and sometimes,
resolution. This means that it won’t be like it was before. To begin to
heal, the pain must be approached. And just as you would meet a new baby, the
pain is best approached with presence, patience and gentleness.
The How To
(The order of these actions and attitudes is flexible. Trust
you’ll know in each moment.)
Start Tender
Perhaps
a soft touch or voice, a smile, listening very closely, waiting, expanding into
something sharp or someplace dark. Deal with it (them, yourself, her, him) as
though you’re holding an infant child, a new puppy or gorgeous budding flower
in your hands. We’re all just finding our way in our bodies, in this world, in
these hours.
Tenderness
doesn’t negate the often called for discipline and/or Power, nor does it mean
the path ahead will be cushy. It’s just the style best suited to the task.
Start with Love
Keep
the word LOVE in mind and behind your
eyes when you’re: helping, cleaning, paying, waiting, speaking, looking,
listening, approaching difficult moments, running with the wind or feeling the
walls closing in -- when you feel overwhelmed, tired, mad, sad, afraid,
enthralled, jealous, jilted, wronged, amped up, and oh so joyous. Everything
will be different. You go first.
Breathe
Remember to remember your breath. Breath is paramount. Simple, in and out, sometimes delicate,
sometimes rolling and heaving, always moving.
Make it deep, make it quiet, make it continuous, make it
feel good. Breath connects us with all Life. Let it take you there. Breath
nourishes cells, brings what’s needed, takes what’s not, the wind from an open
window blowing through a musty room, the waves in the ocean, the warmth that
melts rock to lava.
Approaching pain (and fear, disappointment, anger, frustration,
rage, grief, fill in the blank) tenderly won’t make you a weakling doormat
loser. It will take you deeper and light you up. Starting from love will remind
you of what you’re made of. And remembering to breathe will change everything.
When I realized my approach to healing was off and adopted
my new mantra of tenderness, I discovered a deep well of magnetic love and
resource. I came face to face with my darkest parts, the place where the
Goddess’ shadow is cast in the light that illuminates the Treasures of Life and
Death.
As Pema Chodron says, “…if you touch that soft spot, you
find the vast blue sky.”
I still give great
effort to my abdominal massage, breathing through the hard spots in my gut. But
I do it with sweetness and trust, without an agenda or timeline. My scar
represents one of the most important events of my life. It has been a
tremendous teacher. It may never fade and may always feel kind of itchy. Maybe all
of emotional energy swirling around in my abdomen will never completely unwind.
Maybe it will.
Tender is the place to start -- to approach the doorway to
expansion and freedom from the hallway of the crappy situation. This is how the
shitty, inconvenient, painful, unfair, horrific, grievous curves we’re thrown,
which, by the way, everyone will have in some way or other, transform
(sometimes eventually, sometimes only kind of) into beautiful lessons
connecting us to our Brothers, Sisters and Spirit. And then we see how all of
it is unfolding toward the Good.
