The Healing Journey

I absolutely love to travel. I get so excited to arrive at my final destination where I think all the fun, adventure and relaxation will be. All the other parts of travel however cause me stress and feel like a heavy burden to my body and soul. I long to be instantly transported to my final destination.

I’ve come to view the healing path in the same way. I desperately want to arrive at the final destination called Freedom! Redemption! Joy! Instead, I have spent sleepless nights, weeks, months and yes, even years, navigating the pain of ‘flight delays’, ‘lost luggage’ and the overall exhaustion of the long, arduous journey.

This past week was one of those long and painful ‘travel’ weeks for me.

Both my teenaged children were hurting and I couldn’t protect them or fix the losses they were experiencing. Their pain brought me face to face with my own stories of betrayal and powerlessness and I was triggered, dysregulated and feeling helpless and hopeless. I longed for the final destination of redemption and instead felt broken down on the side of the road full of frustration, anger, grief and intense pain; both physical and emotional.

I reminded myself that this was a difficult part of the journey (kind of like being stuck in a 2-hour TSA line). I began to name my powerlessness to stop my kids from suffering. In doing so, I was brought back to the implicit and explicit memories that remained in my body from my own particular stories of powerlessness and betrayal. As I named and sat with this truth, intense waves of grief came. As I allowed it, I chose to offer myself compassion and kindness. I know this is the way.

I also reached out to a few trusted friends who attuned to me and story with curiosity and love and gave me permission to rage against the injustice that my children experienced as well as the injustices in my own story that were being activated. We also named the reality of spiritual warfare against my family and prayed boldly against it. I then put on my favorite music to remind myself of the awe and wonder of God. I journaled and offered myself room to rest, sleep and feel. I also encouraged myself to find gratitude in the midst of my pain.

I wish I could tell you it’s all better; but it’s not. I am bruised, overwhelmed and exhausted by this leg of the journey. Yet, I am practicing loving myself by finding moments…

To notice the glorious sunset that fell behind the trees.

To hear my son’s laughter as it broke through his sadness.

To catch the brief but real smile on my daughter’s face for the first time in days.

To receive a call from a friend reminding me of hope.

To rest in the arms of my God’s unconditional love for me.

To be in the present moment.

To just be.

I will take these small but poignant moments and hold them close to my battered, travel weary heart. I desperately need them to continue on the journey.

I’m not sure I will ever come to like these painful parts of the journey, where everything seems like an uphill battle, but I will trust that grief, anger, confusion and pain are necessary travel partners and are the waypoints of redemption. I will defiantly explore these painful twists and turns, bringing kindness, compassion and oceans of self-care to myself as I make my way to my destination.

What is it you are needing right now for the leg of the journey you’re on? Will you take your needs seriously?

My hope and prayer is that you will.

You are so worth it.

Are We There Yet?

Near the beginning of the global pandemic this spring, I remember wondering “are we there yet?” Surely this will pass over quickly and we will get back to normal. When the reality set in that there would be no going back to normal, there would only be a going forward into something new, I felt mostly dread. Anxiety is leaning forward with fear of uncertainty of what’s to come. It is a state that steals the peace of the present moment and is as contagious as the virus itself.

I have struggled with anxiety during different seasons of my life and have mostly judged and warred against the thief that would wake me before the break of dawn and steal the peace by covering me with terror and dread. Through practice, I have learned to love and accept the anxiety as an invitation to choose faith over fear. Fear says “you will never make it,” while faith says, “reach for my hand and we will get through the dark fog together.”  

When our children were young we would road trip across the country and because they didn’t have a good concept of time they would ask over and over again “are we there yet?” Even if I showed them on a map where the beginning and end of the trip was and put the time in a translation that was relevant to them (6 episodes of their favorite show), it was hard for them to settle into the journey.

In order to feel safe in transition, it is helpful to know where you are going and when you will arrive. In this liminal space we are in collectively, there appears to be no end in sight. This uncertainty taps into a trauma response and all the other times where the future seemed scary or unsure. When fear settles in and impedes your ability to enjoy the journey it is helpful to orient yourself to the present moment where peace is always awaiting your return. Though we don’t know when we will make it to the other side and the threat of this pandemic will pass, we have already come so far.

As you look back over the past 6 months, what have you gained?  It is so helpful to acknowledge the good that has come of these changes that we have no control of. This pandemic has slowed us down in many ways and for that and other small gifts, we can say “thank you.”

It is also helpful to pause along the way and acknowledge what has been lost. No one likes to do the hard work that grief requires, but what you don’t acknowledge as loss can often pull you back and weigh you down making you feel stuck. Can you take some time to reflect on the small and big losses this current season is bringing forward for you? If you can name them and grieve them, you are free to release them.

When moving through space and time there are so many elements outside of your control. The feeling of powerlessness that is associated with unprecedented change can make you want to push forward in a way that could cause more harm than good. It also can be tempting to withdraw completely because everything is so different, but that feeling of disconnection can add more pain to what is already difficult. When feeling powerless, it is helpful to practice stopping and reconnecting to the power of love.

Love brings comfort in the middle of a long journey when you start to get weary and lose hope. Love is found when you look out the window at the beauty of creation and when you phone a friend to find connection. Love is always present and available and it is here to remind all of us to stay the course. It calls us back to hope.

Although we don’t have the power to choose all of what our new future will be and how long it will take to get there, we can choose to love every little step of our journey and remember that we are not alone. Together we have the power to choose growth and freedom. We as a human race are all navigating uncertain times and together we will arrive at the perfect moment in time!  

“Walk toward the good in life and one day you will arrive.” - Atticus

The Run of the House

My friend told me that there are two types of people, the balcony people and the basement people.  The balcony people are those who lift you up and the basement people are those who pull you down.  I have been thinking a lot about that and need to challenge or expand on that metaphor.  Yes, this is true, but to me there seems to be a truer truth bubbling up. 

I think every person can rise up and encourage one another from the balcony and they can also pull a fellow down in their stumbling and pain, but I think every person is meant to have free reign of the house. 

We are called to move up and down the staircases of life with fluidity, grace, and ease.

In our Narrative Focused Trauma Care training with The Allender center, we learned to “land the plane.” 

We enter in to the particularity of our stories because it is in the particularity where trauma sticks, but it is also in the particularity that freedom is gained.  This discipline of learning to stop flying above harm and minimizing it so that everyone sees a prettier and more pleasing picture was hard, but then it felt liberating.  The truth really does set you free. 

I would consider the work of landing the plane and entering the past trauma as going into the basement.  It is not a dungeon but more of a rec room.  When you invite others into the places where you have been alone in the dark and they bring eyes of compassion, kindness and care, it is like turning on the light and suddenly you realize the basement isn’t as scary as you made it out to be in your head.  It is a good place for ping pong and pillow fights. 

Balcony friends are fun!  It is a joy to look down and see how wonderful and beautiful everything looks from a distance.  Problems that overwhelm you can look so small when you are looking down from that balcony.  It is refreshing to gain perspective and find space between yourself and the things that are weighing you down.  Balconies are close to the chandeliers and beautiful fancy things in life.  The balcony can also be an attic where you stuff everything away and run from the things that need your attention.  It seems to me that there are two sides to everything if you flip them over.  I am thankful for my balcony friends who help me learn to play and be free from the weightiness of the basement, but sometimes it feels inauthentic, like I am hovering above reality and my feet need to touch down.

This is the place, where I need living room friends.  These are the friends who are willing to move and shift according to the needs that are arising.  They are comfortable going with the flow and riding the waves.  Sometimes we might need to drink Champagne on the balcony and laugh until our cheeks hurt as we forget about all the troubles and just enjoy our beautiful lives.  We also can go downstairs together if we need that enclosed safety of the basement where we can sit in the depths of one another’s stories and know that we are not alone.  As we sit in the living room together, we light a fire and acknowledge that we are welcome as we are. 

Whether we have spent our life in the basement learning to walk in the dark or flying high on the balcony, we are all just human and in the living room we find common ground.  There is no good or bad, right or wrong, but human beings who are longing to connect.  We want to tell our truths and find eyes of compassion and kindness that can celebrate our balcony moments and bring comfort to our basement moments, knowing that every person has both sides.  We are called to practice finding balance and learning to love all people.

About 10 years ago, I joined my first story group.  It was disruptive and necessary.  It was one of the greatest gifts God has ever given me and it has changed my ability to travel to different parts of my own house and story with courage, curiosity and love.  We met in the living room of my friend Caren’s house, and we went into the basement as we shared our “valley” experiences.  We traveled to the balcony as we shared our “peak” experiences.  We learned to listen and love ourselves better as we allowed eyes of love to join us in places we may have been keeping hidden or dismissed.  Learning to sit in the living room and tell the whole truth of your story with fellow travelers is healing and transformational. 

We want to invite you to join one of our upcoming story groups beginning June 15 and 16.  In this group we will meet in the living room and build trust so that we can travel to the basement together to allow light to expose the places where we are feeling hidden or stuck.  In the end, we will celebrate how far we have come and toss streamers from the balcony.  Stories are for sharing, lives are for living fully, and communities are for healing, growth, and freedom.  Hope you will consider joining us!  Sign up by going here: https://www.sowthat.com/story-groups

The Train and the Tree

A train is fast and fierce, it moves with a sense of purpose and intensity. It covers great distance and gathers people from all over to carry them safely to a shared destination. A tree is solid and rooted, it stays still and stretches its branches wide to provide a covering and shelter in the storm.

As I processed an old familiar feeling of being too slow and unable to keep up, a wise friend shared this imagery. She held a mirror and reminded me that I am like a tree and my presence is a powerful invitation to rest in stillness. She reminded me how Laurie is more like a train whose power is in the forward movement. Yes, each of us have very different personalities and ways of being in the world, but the combined gift of the two working together is what makes our organization, SOWthat … what it is.

The enemy is always whispering through comparison. The voice that says to the one; “you are moving too fast, you are too much” turns to the other and says “Don’t just sit there, move quickly, you aren’t doing enough.”

If we take the hook and listen to the voice of accusation, we lose our footing and get pulled out of our true nature which is one of a kind and created for a specific purpose.

There is an anxiety that builds as I try to be who I am not, but when I remember the truth of who I am, my roots sink a little deeper and my branches reach out a little farther.

When Laurie gets on a roll and buzzes out of the station she brings an exciting energy of growth and transformation. It inspires and calls others to board the train and enjoy the adventure. As I watch with delight, gratitude fills my heart and I am overwhelmed that God would bring her train to stop and that she would step off and sit in the shade of my branches. She shares stories of the land she has covered and allows her travel weary soul to sink into the stillness. It is a beautiful image of collaboration.

Part of collaboration is knowing who you are in your original goodness and bringing all of that to the table. It is opening your eyes wide to see the unique and gifted others that are seated in your circle.

When envy rears its evil head it mocks the goodness that is present and says “you should be more like that.” It is a dark and sneaky spirit that often goes unseen, but once it is noticed and named it is a call to repentance.

To own and bless what is yours and remember that it is very good, so that you can see and celebrate what is very good in the others.

Each of the gifts that we are called to bring to the world are necessary and good for a unique purpose. Just like the body has many parts, each one has a very good and specific job to do. When all the parts work together it makes such a miraculous whole. We are thankful for each person who hops on the train or rests in the tree’s shade.

It is an honor to work together to serve those of you who are ready to dive into your unique purpose and calling. We admit that working together has its bumps like the one expressed here, but it is these bumps that refine us and shape us into more of who we were created to be.

Today, will you pause and identify the unique gift that you bring to the world just by being you? Can you take a little time to celebrate this goodness and also the goodness that is surrounding and supporting you?

Please join us for our virtual Trauma and the Enneagram workshop on May 9th. you can register HERE: