Last week my family spread my Mother’s ashes in a place that was special to us and her, a nearby mountain she had climbed 15 times by the time she was 28 years old and started having the three of us kids.
Losing her 15 years ago was a sudden and deep wound. And the recovery was long and deep.
Last Wednesday, my eyes and heart sobbed as deeply as the day her spirit left us.
As the ashes lingered on my finger tips then caught the wind in a tiny poof, I could feel the solid mountain beneath my feet.
Deep breaths. Still moments.
A beautiful blessing by John O’Donohue shared out loud sealing a universal ritual in a sacred place.
“May perpetual light shine upon the ashes of all who rest here.”
I was able to easily flow from this moment into the next—sharing snacks and champagne on a picnic table with her grandkids—recovered to a normal state.
This is what we patiently seek.
Healing is a process of becoming whole again.
We think of it as slow or fast, but it’s actually timeless.
Sometimes healing takes years before we reach integrity again—for us to be unimpaired, undivided.
Over the past several weeks since my bike accident, I’ve been in awe watching my body do what it naturally knows how to do: heal itself. My job: to stay out of the way.
How do we heal well?
I’ve been acutely aware of the stages of healing and inspired to write a blog post about how we can move through the stages of healing more gracefully and easily.
“The healing process is remarkable and complex, and it is also susceptible to interruption due to local and systemic factors…When the right healing environment is established, the body works in wondrous ways to heal and [revitalize itself],” say the medical professionals.
Now that the scabs are gone, skin grown back, bruises faded and I’m walking and running again it appears that I’m all better.
But, I’m not.
There is still pain with certain movements, fatigue from too much use and instability in my balance.
That’s why the recovery stage is such a surprisingly difficult stage in healing. The process of returning to a normal state.
But what is a normal state?
When everything is so healed that there are no cracks, no weakness? As if it never happened?
I don’t think so.
Perhaps the normal state is when our renewed strength is challenged, yet remains stable.
This does not mean we are unbreakable. Wouldn’t that be nice?
But we are whole again.
What all is healing in you?
Is it getting the space and attention it needs at the stage that it’s at?
So that even amidst the continuous and constant healing process of living, you feel glued together—not broken.
May this week continue to heal all that is recovering in you.
Love,
Jules