I shared something today that I cannot imagine that I shared. I shared something today from the depths of my soul. I can remember a time when I was going to see a therapist. I can remember taking my journal in with me. I can remember being terrified to hand it over. And I didn’t. I slaved to the fear. I just held it in my lap the whole time. I left having never shared it. I left wondering why I had brought it in the first place and how in the hell did I ever dream of becoming a writer? I was terrified to share this piece of me. What was I thinking?! I remember this vividly.
And now, somewhere around a decade later, likely longer… Hold on, let’s see. This was… 2000? Maybe 2001? A therapist my ex-husband and I enlisted right before all shit hit the fan… So 2001. Must have been. Nice lady. Recommended to me by a woman I once worked with. She tried. Briefly. It was hopeless, but she gave it a whirl. And I was terrified. I was terrified to be seen. At one point in my life, I had this fantasy about the first time I allowed someone to see my writing and how romantic it would be… How they would be blown away and shower me with compliments and heave and ho about how I absolutely MUST share my powerful writing, etc and etc. And woe is me. That was so not what happened. I choked. I panicked. I capsized. The end.
And then today. Today I bared my soul. Naked. Today I took a human sized Exacto knife and laid myself open in front of everyone. Heart, mind, soul, reproductive organs, sebaceous glands, myofascial tissue and everything. Wide open. Bright, clinical light overhead. And I couldn’t stop myself. I felt compelled to share. I had to share to survive. What is happening here? I spoke to a dear friend about it.
She said, “Well, what does it feel like for you?”
I replied, “It’s cathartic.” And I meant it. I realized that there are three reasons I must, simply must, share my soul now.
1. Cleanse. It’s cleansing. Ana Forrest describes this vividly in her book, Fierce Medicine. She speaks of how when a horse has a deep wound, you have to get in there and scrub it with a brush. You have to break down the tissue to make sure too much scar tissue doesn’t form around it. And then, if you keep it clean enough, it slowly starts to heal and heal well. This is part of this level of sharing for me. It’s scrubbing down the old wounds with ferocity so that I can release the scar tissue and begin to heal.
2. Heal. Healing means to cure, to re-grow, to get well and/or to mend, according to dictionary.com Since I have allowed myself to start writing, I have discovered the therapeutic benefits. They far outweigh anything else I have ever done in the name of healing. Sometimes giving voice to things truly helps dispel their power. My voice bleeds through my finger tips. My soul takes over. All I have to do is watch the words appear on screen. Sometimes the tears fall from my eyes and I am just reading what is coming through me. When I am complete, I feel lighter. I have learned that this does come with a price and that I have to be careful in the ways this clearing might impact others. Thankfully, my loved ones have been kind in revealing this grace to me.
3. Connect. A huge part of this journey is connection. Through sharing, writing, and teaching I have connected to so many. People email me, text me, call me, and write me to tell me things… Ways that my sharing has helped them release, helped them heal, helped them see things differently. These connections not only fuel me, but they are part of the healing process. For them, I am ever grateful.
Sharing your soul isn’t easy, but it is certainly uplifting. And this is my mission of late. To uplift myself and any/everyone else I can. If I can help you on your journey, please don’t hesitate to let me know.