Arrival - An exploration of healing
IMAGE: Priestess - The Photo Forest
Author – Katia Krassas © Copyright -
Please do not copy without written permission from the author.
After years of the wanting and the yearning and the healing,
the arrival was unexpectedly gentle.
The entry to the place she had been seeking for so long, knowing,
but not knowing what it would be like,
just knowing it was there somewhere,
the freedom to truly know herself, and be at peace with who she is.
The arrival to this place happened long before she realised.
There was no announcement. No fanfare.
Suddenly she realised she was there.
The signs were in the experience of joy in everyday things, the way the sun made a leaf glow, the way a raindrop splashed on her skin, these fleeting things aroused in her the pure joy of being alive.
She had entered that place of grace and love that didn’t rely on any events around her, just on her being present to the moment to moment experience of being alive.
It was a surprise, because she had never experienced it as a state of being
and hadn’t known how to recognise it.
Her mind habits were still pulling her back into old patterns. Familiar patterns.
When fear came, it came with the old pattern of not being safe.
When pain came, it came with the old pattern of not having control.
When anger came, it came with the old pattern of being ignored and disrespected.
So many patterns, deeply embedded, and seductively familiar.
They continued to tempt her back into their adrenaline infused responses, their addictive habits and reactions to people around her.
She allowed herself the luxury of feeling every emotion that came to her, and of not engaging with the old patterns. Observing them. Acknowledging them. And setting them free.
The emotions themselves just wanted to be felt. They needed to find their way through her cells, her muscles, her blood, and to vibrate out, viscerally, to be deeply and fully experienced in their own time, their own rhythm.
She felt them fully as they flowed through her body as laughter, as fear, or pain. She danced them, moved them, cried them, expressed them. Spontaneous laughter was becoming a familiar companion.
The old patterns though, were something else.
They were the habitual thoughts that wanted to make meaning of the emotions, to hold onto old stories of why life is unfair, why people can’t be trusted, why she couldn’t find love, why she couldn’t do all the things she wanted to do, why she needed to be invisible, not risk expressing her truth, showing her true colours.
And these were the addictions that kept the old wounds alive, and kept the pain alive, and why she kept repeating the old stories in her life, by the way she lived her life. Why she kept finding herself in the same painful situations, wherever she went. Different relationships, same pain.
She awoke to the realisation that she had arrived.
After so long of deep work, and deep diving, and healing, and creating new patterns to live by, while the old patterns reached out and called her back again and again.
The actual arrival was so gentle that she nearly missed it.
She suddenly could see that she was there. And it was easy to step into that place and remain there.
It had finally become an easy choice. Her inner life was no longer a battlefield. Her outer life was no longer a battlefield. She could move through the tough stuff in life, feel the depths of emotions, and still be in that place of grace and love.
She had arrived.