The Basics Really

I’ve been watched

Havi has done it again. That is – gone ahead and stuck her finger on the button. Hit the nail on the head etc, etc.

She put it like this:

“What I wanted for my husband was for him to receive from therapy what I had: the ability to take personal responsibility for stuff in your life not being exactly the way you want it to be.

What my husband wanted for me was for me to be an entirely different person.”

Huh – Who’d have thunk that she had a crystal ball and had been watching me all those years?

Actually it’s spooky when someone goes on to describe in perfect detail exactly what had been going on in your life.

That she came to it whilst talking about a book on Non Violent Communication is beside the point. (Yes, I do own it – it’s good. I agree with Havi, the poetry makes your ears/ eyes/ brain want to bleed.)

Or maybe it is the point.

Somehow it ties into what I’ve been thinking about tonight. When I was reading it my brain started shooting sparks and going ping, ping, ping!

Recognising the hurt. Acknowledging the hurt. Giving the hurt the space and time it needs to heal. Basically, letting the hurt have the space to feel legitimate without it ruling your life.

Going a few steps back.

Freaky Therapy

I’ve been having Craniosacral Therapy and finding it very effective. Weird, even freaky, there is no way I understand what goes on during those sessions, but it works.

I cannot explain, for instance, why during my first session my therapist put her hand under my liver and I started immediately to feel anxious and then spent the next two weeks releasing a huge amount of anxiety using a very effective technique of imagining my worries as rocks that I throw in a river, or pond, or sea. Finding huge amounts of energy now at hand to use feeling happy, not anxious.

Or why, in my last session when she put her hands between my (very tight) shoulder blades, I was suddenly aware of how unsure I was as a child, how I yearned to feel special, how I carried these through to my adulthood, even though I didn’t need them anymore.

Then, realising that a certain someone who has been relentlessly in my thoughts for months, isn’t there because I’m yearning to see them again, it’s not nostalgia, it’s hurt. Great big gaping chunks of hurt that I haven’t given enough space to heal.

I recognised how I cannot move forward, or recognise that their actions were not personal, or forgive until I recognise the hurt I feel; compassionately allowing myself the space to get over feeling like I had pieces ripped out of my person.

Impatience – well hello again

I’m a rusher. I’ve written about this before. I find it challenging to give myself the space and time needed to just come back to myself.

If you were thinking about this as an actual physical wound it would look like this:

I cut myself. No panic, no judgement – it’s just a cut that needs to be looked after.

So I clean the wound by flushing it out and stop the bleeding.

I apply antiseptic stuff (probably vast quantities of tea tree oil) and then I bandage it up, or get it stitched or whatever.

I carry on being exemplary in my wound care – I make sure it doesn’t get infected and that the new tissue knits together. I give it Reiki and generally take care.

The bruises subside, the stitches come out and the skin is healed over.

TA DA! All done yes?


My scar is still red and inflamed; the new tissue is still fragile and tender.

Scar tissue is still forming. The wound is safe from infection but it’s still not completely healed.

It takes months, even years for the scar to turn silvery and become as strong and supple as the skin once was before. It will certainly be a while before I expect to be able to take the same risks with that bit of skin that I used to.

Why should it be any different for emotional boo boos?

Communicating Non Violently with My Self

By recognising the scar is still healing I can stop pushing to make progress.

I can stop, step back and ask myself gently what my needs are, dialoguing with my fears and hurt along the way in a way that does not threaten them me so that I may seek the best solution to the situation.

If it means that I must stop and feel the hurt that’s been bubbling under the surface and getting in the way of me trusting another person again, then that’s what I’ll do.

But I’ll be safe while I do it (that’s keeping the dressing clean and the antiseptic going).

I’ll have support along the way (the checkups at the Doctor’s) and I won’t be pushing myself to heal faster (avoiding over use and strain.)

As ever – the motto is “Gently does it.”

2 Responses

  1. You are so right! So true. (And I, too, feel like Havi is in my head some days.) We rush and rush to try to heal our boo boos, slapping band-aids on them so they won’t offend others. Sadly, we’re often not taking the space to appreciate that it’s the entire process that we must go through before it gets better. I love what you’ve written. Thank you.

  2. Fine fine! It’s bad enough when Havi recommends the book, now you too?? I’ll get it asap! It is strange, isn’t it, how she seems to get in our heads? If I do happen to find her hanging outside my window, peeking, I’ll be sure to invite in for some tea.

    I so feel for you with the rushing thing, I sometimes feel I want to sulk and stamp my feet when things don’t happen NOW NOW NOW. Gently does it, indeed!

    Hugs to you, wormy!

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