Finally
What would you finally have to feel
if
one evening
after a long day
you decided
to slow down
let the dirty dishes sit there
in the sink or even on the counter
stopped busying yourself with
perfecting things that really don’t matter
turned off the TV
put down your smart phone
put down the fork or glass
stopped numbing yourself
with your addiction of choice
and you paused for a moment –
came into stillness
listening to your breath
allowing its rhythm to carry you
into your heart?
What would you finally have to feel?
the anger
the sadness
the grief, regret or rage
that has been pushed down
denied, buried
for too long now?
Maybe it’s the longing –
the longing to belong
the longing to know
you are enough
the longing to be held
the longing to say
what’s been on your heart
for decades.
Maybe you’d finally have to feel
that one tender wound
still fresh, still raw,
still too easily opened
that happened long ago.
What armors your heart, dear one?
What fear keeps you from fully living,
fully feeling,
fully loving?
What would you finally have to feel
if
you
took off
the armor
and held whatever it is
with kindness and compassion
with spaciousness and light –
yes, finally,
in the soft light
with air to breathe?
What would you finally have to see
be with
tend to
and hold,
dear one?
What would you finally have to feel?
What would you finally have to feel
against your chest
inside your belly
under your ribs?
The cries?
The moans
that you didn’t believe
any human being
could make?
Your body shaking?
Your legs kicking?
Your fists pounding?
The emptiness?
The raw rage
and utter sadness?
Maybe it’s time.
Maybe it’s finally time
to heal.
Time to feel.
Time to let your body do
what it knows it needs to do.
Time to sit
come into stillness
feel the rhythm of your breath
carrying you into your heart
to befriend
and reclaim
Yourself
again.
Lisa McCrohan
Blessings,
This is lovely.
I wish this for my alcoholic mother.
Send it to her.
I hear you. I hear you. Yes, alcohol is one way we numb out the pain, numb us from feeling. Sometimes that’s because there’s been too much — too much trauma. But I have seen in my own life and as a psychotherapist and meditation teacher that the only way to heal is to feel it. Once I went to a workshop — gosh I wish I could remember his name right now — a Qigong expert. He said, “You have to feel it to heal. it.” I now say that to clients — but we “feel it” in a skillful way. We aren’t in to retraumatizing people. Gently, slowly, with a lot of spaciousness and self-compassion, we learn to feel what our body is wanting to show us. Blessings to YOU, dear one, with an alcoholic mother. You have gone through your own trauma. Blessings to such a lovely daughter.
Love,
Lisa
Thank you. I couldn’t agree more about having to experience the emotions in order to heal. If I can teach/provide my 14 month old daughter with anything, it’s how to handle the full spectrum of emotions in a safe, gentle, accepting way. Anger is not bad, for instance. We just need to know how to express it in a healthy way to then move on… Hopefully this is making sense?! Thanks again, Lisa.
Best,
Elizabeth
Elizabeth, what a mom you are. Yes – teaching our kiddos to have compassion — to allow and to “be with” ALL the emotions we have is an incredibly valuable “tool”. More than “tool” — learning to notice and allow and be gentle with whatever we feel enables us to choose our responses to life’s challenges and to manage when things don’t go the way we wanted them to. This makes perfect sense, Elizabeth. Your little honey is in beautiful hands.
Love,
Lisa
Truth.
Dylan, yes. A deep truth.
I just looked at your site, Dylan. I am moved by the work you do — the passion you have. Surely you are “walking the walk!” I lived and worked in Guatemala and El Salvador for years (before having kiddos!). It would AMAZE me that they could get pepsi or coke all the way in remote areas where there aren’t any real roads, and yet, YET they couldn’t get drinking water there. I am behind you, Dylan. I know how it feels to have a passion/vocation calling you and telling you to get up and bring it to life. Thank you for all that you are doing to heal and help this world. I look forward to reading more about the new places and people your feet take you to.
Blessings,
Lisa
Lisa, wow. I am incredibly honored and motivated by your words. What type of work did you do in Guatemala? Did you enjoy your time there?
Dylan, I was there for several years working for an orphanage in the highlands of Guatemala — assisting the nuns who ran the orphanage with organizational and program development. I was also in San Salvador working for a human rights organization where I assisted artisan cooperatives with their business development. It was an incredible experience which changed my life. It was hard, challenging. From that perspective, yes, I “enjoyed” it. But it was humbling, lonely at times, and I was brought to a very vulnerable, raw place within my own self. THAT, though, deepened my sense of compassion, my sense of “letting go” and drew me closer to however I define the “divine.”
I still have friends from there. I continue to offer therapy to Spanish-speaking folks here in the US. When I was at Georgetown University working at the Wellness Counselor for faculty and staff, I was the first Spanish-speaking therapist and was able to see folks who had never utilized our services because of the language barrier.
When I am present and still, I experience what your poem says. I touch my anger, rage, shame, anguish, and also my joy and peace. This is really lovely, Lisa and I will share it on Facebook.
Thank you, Brenda. Yes, when we are present and still, we “touch” these emotions. I was talking to someone yesterday about the practice of remembering that we are the ocean and these emotions are waves — to allow them, to remember our wholeness, that the waves are a part of us…the return to us and “blend into” the ocean. Thank you for sharing, Brenda! My poetry is very dear to me and I’m “finally” acting on the movement within me to share more of my poetry with the world. Blessings, Lisa