Well, I did it. This is the last letter in the ABC’s of Healing series. For this last entry, I will write about my own spiritual healing and transformation. I would love to hear yours as well via the comment section or through e-mail.
The Buddhists believe that transformation occurs in four different means, one being suffering. Christianity has a similar notion – suffering produces perseverance, which produces character, and that leads to hope. I believe for me, it was a willingness to walk the path of suffering, a willingness to face my fears and wounds that has led (is leading) to healing. I do not say I have arrived, for I believe that we cannot reach perfection in this life on earth. I would say with confidence I am moving towards hope; I am moving along the path of healing.
I grew up in a conservative, evangelical environment where everyone talked about their “personal relationship with Jesus” and how this filled them with so much joy. I never “got it” and carried around a great deal of shame because of my inability to “feel Jesus’ presence.” What I did not realize as a child and adolescent is that I would not “get it” in the state I was in – self-protective, non-feeling, and numbed-out. It is hard to “feel” connected with another living in isolation, afraid to let anything or anyone get close to me. I was a traumatized kid who ingenuously learned to protect myself by feeling nothing and getting close to no one. I was really good at faking it.
While my ingenuous coping skills kept me from dying (and I mean that literally and figuratively), they did not translate well into a religious environment that used “feeling” as a measure of one’s spiritual strength. This was not the only measure. Because I failed at that one, I became zealous about the others – reading my Bible, memorizing my Bible, wearing Jesus T-shirts, doing service projects, going on mission trips, not having sex, not doing drugs or drinking alcohol. From the outside, I looked the part of the perfect Christian girl . . . really, to an annoying extreme. I was zealous about Jesus purely from an external perspective. On the inside, in my soul, I was barely breathing.
Transformation and healing did not take place overnight. I still get a little envious of those people who had a “breakthrough” moment that changed their life forever, but that is not how it happened for me. My transformation has truly come out of the path of suffering. It has been a slow and careful process of peeling back layers of stories; of unpacking the thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations that each layer brings. The peeling is not constant. I still have fun, I relax, and I truly enjoy my life. It is also not forcing the layers to come apart, but rather noticing that a layer is ready and then gently go with that.
I had a major layer come off this weekend (and is still quite a bit raw this morning.) It had been years since anything this strong was ready to be peeled away and processed. And thank goodness those layers do not come often, for they are quite painful when they come. But I welcomed it (not with a smile but more with a "Oh crap!"). Ten years ago, when a layer like this would have arisen, I would have done anything and everything to stomp it out. This kept me fighting against myself, and in the fight I vacillated between anger and depression. I had unhealthy ways of checking out to avoid the pain. Fighting, avoiding, numbing, and isolating are not exactly conducive for experiencing intimacy and connection. Healing occurs in the midst of intimacy and connection.
This weekend is a good example of where I am at now. As my husband put it, I had the perfect storm. I have trauma in my history and one thing about trauma it tends to recycle when a trauma survivor’s own children reach the age when the abuse began. Storm number one, my oldest daughter has reached that age. Storm two – I spent two days at a trauma conference learning a new processing technique. Enough said. Storm three, I am having a hysterectomy a week from today. Words like body betrayal, naked, sexuality, exposure, vulnerable are all running rampant through my head. These storms collided this weekend. The layer was ready to be peeled back and processed.
Unlike the past, I did not run from the pain. I faced it, I felt it, and I shared it with a couple of trusted people. I did not feel it constantly this weekend – there were times when I contained it in order to tend to my parenting responsibilities. But then I would take it back off the shelf and sit with it. I sat with it alone. I sat with it in prayer. I sat with it in writing. I allowed a couple of people to sit with it alongside me. Healing came (and will continue to come today, tomorrow, and every day) because I was intimate and connected with my own soul, with God, and with others.
When we avoid our stories, avoid our layers, we are like a movie set. It looks like a real buildings, but there is nothing on the inside. If we are people of faith, our spirituality may look real on the outside, but internally it is empty. Walking through the path of suffering, though not always pleasant, leads to a beautiful and hope-filled life. For this, I am now zealous.
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