Up to this point in my life I believed pain was meant to be dealt with in solitude. Of course I had my moments of opening up and overwhelming who ever I trusted but I believed whatever I went through I was meant to go through it alone. I believed to be real about what I was going through would be a sign of weakness and that people wouldn’t understand me. I believed by being vulnerable I was putting myself in a position where I wouldn’t be able to protect myself.
I really hate not having my shit together. I hate being embarrassed. I hate being “emotional.” Even with my best attempts to not make mistakes or look weak, I am human. Whatever armour I build in solitude only lasts momentarily in a world that requires me to interact; requires me to engage even when I want to be left alone.
This past Wednesday I attended a free healing workshop for organizers and artists at One Village Healing. I went there with the intention of healing other people. I expected to have a discussion and shrink myself to foster dialogue. I didn’t expect to gain anything from it, or to be asked to take a nap upon my arrival. The itinerary included napping then yoga then dinner + chill and finally sound healing.
Sound healing literally resonated with me. I’m not sure I can put it into words, but the experience is one I couldn’t control and I was better for it. I left feeling lighter, more patient, more excited to face life head on. Unfortunately that high faded as they usually do, and that same night I fell back into old habits. I got drunk. I ate shitty food. I wasted money. I didn’t say no. I was fed up with repeating the same cycle so I decided to make changes for a set period of time: 100 days.