Yesterday I sent out one of those desperate, “Help me!” prayers to the universe. Do you know the kind – when you don’t even know what to pray for, when you feel so lost, so tired that the only word that you can say is, “Help?” Do you know those moments – when you hurt so badly that you don’t feel like you can handle it for one. more. second? Or when you spend most of the day crying on the bathroom (or in my case, the laundry room) floor? (The laundry room has become a haunt of mine lately.)
Much of this past year has been a giant unraveling for me. My exterior life has fallen apart on just about each and every layer and level – relationships, finances, career, health, faith, and more. They don’t call it a dark night of the soul for nothing.
I’ve talked to so many people – dear, dear, conscious, awake, intentional people – who’ve been experiencing the same darkness, confusion, fear and doubt. I’ve thought a lot about why this is. And the word I keep coming back to is mercy. There is a mercy in pain, in being broken open.
The mercy is this: the pain is there to heal you, not to hurt you. I know, I know – it sounds crazy. What?? And yet…. I know I’ve felt tremendous guilt about my pain – feeling bad, feeling judged, feeling blamed, feeling like it’s all my fault. This belief – that I’m bad and being punished and that’s why I hurt – is not true. It’s caused me enormous suffering over the years. And as I face this belief again and again, with every heartache, it’s power diminishes and fades. And I no longer suffer from it.
Those beliefs are arising so that I may see them for what they are – untrue – and let them go. What beliefs are arising in your life so that you can release them, heal them, and let them go?
Being broken open, unfortunately – or fortunately – is part of healing. It’s part of the path of letting go of food suffering… of letting go of any suffering.
Rilke put it this way: “What is required of us is that we love the difficult and learn to deal with it. In the difficult are the friendly forces, the hands that work on us. Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.”
Oh, beloved, if you’re stumbling, if you’re hurting, how I want to hold you in my arms and reassure you: you are right where you need to be. Those hands that are working on you are kind. They are not there to punish, but to heal those beliefs, those old, old, childhood wounds that linger in your heart and mind, to bring them up to the light so that you may see, and know and experience that they are not true.
We heal when we trust.
To trust means to forgive – to forgive ourselves, to forgive the “shoulds” that run circles in our heads, telling us we should’ve been able to do better, act better, be better, prevent the falling apart, make it different, be in control….
On Sunday I unrolled my yoga mat for the 3rd time in 8 months and said hello to myself. I spent much of my practice in hero’s pose, a sitting posture, with my hand on my heart. I poured out my tears, offering myself self forgivness. As I noticed my flabby belly – a physical symbol of all that fell apart this year, and a physical symbol of my strident “shoulds” – I offered it kindness. I breathed in kindness and breathed out forgiveness as I whispered to myself, over and over, “I will not make war against my body. I will not make war against my own heart.”
(Learn how to let go of painful “shoulds” in your life in Overcoming Sugar Addiction for Life.)
To trust means to have faith when things are falling apart. To rest in the mystery and mercy in even what we don’t want. This morning, as I sat in a puddle with my tears, as I felt the tight panic, of, “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” a new voice, a new strength came into my being, softening the tight, anxious, fearful voice who wanted to wave a magic wand and fix the mess I found myself in. This voice reassured me with, “You’re going to be alright. You’re going to be okay.” And I felt, oddly, at peace – even as it all fell to ashes. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, I just know that it will be okay.
To trust means to know that we are never, ever, ever alone.
Yesterday I sent out a prayer – please, God, help. Today I got emails from half a dozen people saying, “I was thinking about you all day. Are you okay?” I felt a whoosh of goosebumps as I realized my prayers do not go unanswered; that I am held by something greater than myself in this loopy, hurting, chaotic, spinning world.
Rilke said it best again – “You must believe that…life holds you in its hands and will not let you fall.”
Oh, beloved, trust the breaking. Trust this breaking open. Trust the falling. Trust that you are held in kind, kind hands, who love you more than you know. Who are doing everything in their power to free your heart, body, mind and spirit….who are doing everything in their power to rest you in love.
We are all, all of us, okay. We are all, all of us, right where we need to be.
Hi Karly,
Thanks for the post, I found myself sobbing. The only time I seem to cry is when I read your articles, so much for being a tough cookie
.
I guess withouit going into a poor me/us discussion, all I want to say is “thank-you”
Love and light
Lauren-Lee
Oh, precious Lauren-Lee,
It takes courage to cry, to let yourself be that vulnerable. I bow to the courage in you to cry your tears. You may like this quote –
“Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don’t know how to laugh either.” ~Golda Meir
Whatever burdens you are carrying, I am sincerely sorry. I come alongside you and offer my care, so you may know you are not alone. We belong to each other in this life. Thank God.
Take good care, Karly
Hi Karly,
I’ve never commented on your blog before, but I just saw that you are moving to Austin and I wanted to let you know what a wonderful place it is! I’ve lived here on & off for 16 years, and it’s not perfect, but it is full of fun-loving, caring, conscious, dedicated people, great swimming and biking, and tons of great resources for you & your kids to connect with!
I’m confident that you will find a nurturing community (or communities!) to be part of, and that you can enjoy life here.
Best,
Julia
Hi Julia,
Your note filled me with such warmth as I take this leap into uncertainty and the unknown – thank you for welcoming me to our new home. It put a smile on my face this morning.
XO, Karly
Hi Karly,
Being totally alone, and disappearing into darkness with no one to love or hold or care about me is my greatest fear.
This fear was put to the test a few years back when I became ill in a public place.
I suffered a severe panic attack in a train station. The paramedics were called and I had some very powerful thoughts in the moments that followed.
My fear of being alone was like a giant tidal wave crashing down on me. I felt like a defenseless little animal stripped of my armour and as one counsellor put it “Kathy, you were blasted wide open.” and I was.
What astonished me during those moments of complete and utter terror was this: Complete strangers came up to me expressed concern and tried to help me. I just sat in a corner and cried and I couldn’t breathe and everything around me was distorted, I couldn’st see properly and felt like the space around me was closing in, but that didn’t stop these people from trying to extend a hand.
I had one lady from Starbucks give me some food and water, and another person went and got a train station attendant to sit with me till the paramedics arrived.
During those moments, my fear of being alone for me was shattered because I realized that it was nothing but smoke and mirrors installed by yours truly.
I put them there. I couldn’t believe it…and its all because I felt that I deserved to be alone. I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t smart enough, I wasn’t thin enough…. BUT I WAS GOOD ENOUGH and I AM GOOD ENOUGH.
Those complete strangers didn’t care about my perceived failures, my less than perfect body, the fact that I was late for work that day, that I was mentally judging and crticising everyone around me before the whole incident occured. None of it mattered. This astounded me. I felt I deserved everything bad that happens to me because I am a bad person, and I was wrong.
There are people in the world that do care and they are in the least likely of places you would expect. And as you said Karly and I agree 100% “We heal when we trust.” This challenges me daily but I am thankful that I am not alone when it comes to handling my greatest fears.
Thank you deeply for this post.
Kathy
Hi Kathy,
Thank you for being so vulnerable and sharing your experience here. I feel so touched in reading your story about your panic attack and the refuge you found in relying on total strangers – strangers who reminded you that you’re not alone.
I found your story inspiring and beautiful.
In deepest gratitude, Karly
Hi Karly! These are challenging times for so many of us–why is it easier to remember what we “should” have done different other than what we “did do” well? I catch myself thinking about them frequently and am trying to remember what I am proud of instead. Namaste.
Hi Sherrie,
What a great idea – to focus on what we’re proud of. I appreciate your sharing that perspective with me – I find it helpful and useful.
Tara Brach says we’re often teflon for good and velcro for bad – perhaps it’s a part of human nature. I feel better knowing it’s not personal; that we can all succomb!
XOXO, Karly
As I read this, I kept thinking “I need to let Karly know she can call me ANYTIME” so I was relieved to see that you got some wonderful emails from loving friends! (but you can still call/email me anytime)
I’m going to trust you that the pain is helping me and not hurting me. Because it does not feel like my friend right now. It feels like an ugly stepsister who only wants to laugh at me.
I felt a certain solidarity with you when you spoke of you flabby belly – I have one of those as well and it came from a year of shame, resentment, and hurt. But as I told a friend today, I was not hating myself when I fed my pain, I was trying to love myself in the only way I knew how, with food.
I hope that today finds you in a more peaceful place – you deserve every good feeling that comes your way today! xoxo
Hi Jill,
I feel so touched by your comment here – thank you for reaching out and for your support. I gratefully and heart-fully appreciate your care.
May we all love our flabby bellies, every physical “imperfection” and know that we are so much more than that tiny definition of self…..
I have found such peace in resting in the assurance that I’ve done the best I can…. to forgive what I couldn’t do…and to let those shoulds blow away in the wind, knowing that they have no basis in reality, or often kindness!
I love that we are finding that self compassion together.
In love, Karly
Sweet Karly,
As I read this I cried. We are on the exact same page….scary stuff, I know.
Yesterday, for me, was a day of many, many tears and today I was blessed with a soft wave of peace that has washed over me. I’m praying that it will last. You see, I found out yesterday that my 2 year old canine son, Picasso has to have a biopsy on a sore that I found on the roof of his mouth. We have been trying to treat it with 3 different professional opinions, antibiotics, cellular slides……nothing has worked and it has actually grown bigger. Yesterday when I was told this I was also told that the place they are referring me to is VERY expensive…like minimal of $1000.00 to start diagnostics. I am standing in faith that God will provide a way and a benign result, still my flesh and emotions are fearful. I was very surprised that I didn’t binge out over this…..actually for the first time in my life, it was opposite as I felt nauseated at the thought. I know that no matter what, I too, will be ok. There truely is healing in pain. I do not like it when I am in it, but I know I (we) will survive. I miss you sweet friend. You are in my prayers.
In His Grace…
Robbie
Robbie,
Thank you for your kind words. I hope that Picasso finds healing and that you find peace in the midst of trying circumstances. I know how much your doggies mean to you – I am so sorry.
I miss you, too, dear one. Did you hear that I’m moving to Texas? (Austin.) We’ll soon be neighbors.
May we all feel held in our sadness.
XOXO, Karly