Mindful Monday: Rebuilding with Love

This is not easy to write, and at the same time I feel compelled to share.

To take a moment to acknowledge and honour where I’ve been and where I’m at, hoping it may inspire others faced with challenges that can feel insurmountable.

Two years ago, a drunk driver crashed into my home in the middle of the night a few feet from where I was sleeping. I was woken abruptly from a deep sleep knowing that something had happened but not knowing what.

Fortunately, I was able to flee my home and had support waiting for me at the end of my driveway, and support has been with me ever since.

I lost my home, my financial stability was threatened, my emotional, mental, and physical well-being all threatened in one single moment.

That night I moved in with my sister and brother-in-law and have been here ever since. Feeling safe and loved is what I have needed the most and I have found that here. I’m deeply grateful.

Right away, I started receiving support from highly skilled practitioners, and thank goodness for that. As I engaged in therapy it became clear that this new trauma had unearthed trauma from my childhood. There was a lot to unpack, process and be with. It was too much to navigate alone.

Two years later I’m still rebuilding.

I’m rebuilding a new inner foundation and this foundation hasn’t fully formed yet. Sometimes it can feel shaky or vulnerable while other times it feels solid and safe.

This is my healing process.

The ego self has been saying, “It’s been two years. What’s taking so long?”

The more I listened to the Inner Critic the more judgment and pressure I was putting on myself for where I was or wasn’t and it often felt like one step forward, two steps back.

Then something significant happened.

Last week I said out loud “I’m not where I was two years ago.” Without even thinking the words came out of my mouth. The truth that I am still rebuilding. There was no judgment. It was simply a fact.

It was a surprise to hear these words and, at the same time, a huge relief to acknowledge my truth, know it’s ok and I’m ok.

I know the ego self might still want to chime in and say, “Get over it.”

I’m not going to get over it. I’m moving through it.

I’m not sitting on the sidelines either. I’m committed to loving the parts of me that are still healing. And as a result, I have a deeper connection to Self and transformation has and is still occurring.

What I do know is, my practice has strengthened. I’m not the same person I was two years ago. I have grown tremendously.

That night I fled my home it was chaos. There were police and fire trucks. When I looked at my home from across the street, I saw the front of my house completely torn down and a car sitting in my living room. With all this happening, without even thinking, my focus went inward. I became aware of my body shaking, and I immediately started focusing on my breath. Breathing in and out. I also started Tapping to help calm my nervous system.

Amid everything, I was able to focus on supporting myself. I had the capacity to care for me.

I was so touched by this. I still am. Knowing where I had come from in my life and where I am now was a result of my daily practice and commitment for all these years.

We all have the capacity for resilience.

Being resilient doesn’t mean we get over something quickly. For me being resilient means we have the courage to move through it. We can go to those dark places, feel, ask for help. We don't run. We stay the course. We heal and we move forward stronger and more whole as a result.

It has been hard. It has been messy. It has also been an awakening and a rebirth. So many things have been unearthed. My angels in physical and nonphysical form have continually showered me with so much loving support.

In our society I think it’s quite common to hear the messages “Get over it, move on, suck it up”. The emphasis that it’s a strength if someone can get on with their lives so quickly after a traumatic event like nothing ever happened.

I look at it differently.

Taking time to be, to feel and to heal is a strength. It takes the courage of a warrior.

If we don’t take the time to heal, the trauma will often come up at some other point in our lives. It can result in PTSD or other more subtle symptoms that also prevent us from being present, at peace and connected to our truth.

So here I am. Feeling raw. Tears welling up in my eyes as I write this. And yet also feeling such tremendous relief. I am a warrior. I am meant to be alive to share this with you.

I feel light. I feel a sense of freedom to shine light on the darkness and honour myself fully through this process. My process and no one else’s.

I certainly have greater compassion for those who, when faced with huge challenges, without a network of support, end up carrying around so much intense, unresolved pain. We can’t navigate these things alone. We’re meant to be supported and held up in times of need. It’s a big part of why I do the work I do. If I can be there to support you, please reach out.

May we love and honour ourselves exactly where we are, knowing we are always in process, and we have the strength to get through it.

With love and gratitude,

Diane