healing is something that i have been speaking about for a very long time. for most of my teens, and all of my adult life, i have been preoccupied with this idea of fixing/moving past/integrating/overcoming/releasing/accepting all of these things inside of me that i thought i needed to heal. which made me feel rushed and frantic, as though there was something inherently wrong with wherever i actually was. i had to be over there instead, where i am healed from ~all of this~.
recently i have been thinking of healing not as a destination, but as a state of being. not as something that a future-emily achieves, but something that emily-right-now practises. a way of relating to myself — a softness, curling inward. the self not only as the observer, but as a friend.
i have been filled with anxiety lately. i don’t know what about. but i feel my heart racing in my chest, no matter how many deep belly-breaths i take. i haven’t been sleeping at night, even though my room is saturated with lavender oil. my shoulders are tense and the migraines keep coming.
past-emily’s would have been very focussed on moving past this anxiety. because of all this means that there’s something wrong, right? there’s something i’m holding onto, something i need to let go of, to heal. i have to fix the anxiety. to get better.
there is still, very much, an impulse to do all of those things. but i am just trying to send love to the parts of me that are hurting. i think of pain like a small child, and it makes me sad to think of someone telling a child to just “get over” how they are feeling, to stop hugging their knees to their chest and stop crying. so i am trying to stop telling those things to myself. trying to stop telling myself to just get over anxiety or sadness or grief.
i am just taking deep belly breaths, not to try to get rid of the pain, but just to be present with it. to let i know that i am giving it the space it needs to exist, for however long it needs to exist. i am doing all of these things not because i want to reach my goal of healing, but because every part of me, including the anxious, sad and grieving parts, deserve to be held and treated with tenderness.