What a wise and wonderful journey you have shared with us, from shipwreck to firmly afloat and in your body, no longer afraid to swim…both literally and toward the safe shore of yourself awaiting you, that has always been there for you, my dear friend. So proud of how far you’ve come & I know the pain it has cost you. But look at you now! Keep swimming! 🏊♀️
Amy, your comment made me tear up! Thank you for your deep witnessing. Your encouragement means so much to me! Who would've thought, that my "journey home" would involve a treacherous stretch of perilous ocean currents from the site of a shipwreck to the shore? But here I am, not entirely onshore, but relishing in the process of learning how to stay calm in water and how to swim home.
I can't comment too much. The person who made me into a chump is lurking on Substack. I needed this post today. I needed this help to find my way forward. I am still struggling in the deep water, waves washing over my head, the shore looking very far away and only the intermittent beam from a lighthouse to guide me. I'm confident I'll come safely to shore, though I cannot imagine the feel of the sand beneath my feet.
Thank you for writing this. I'd say you have no idea how you have helped me but reading your post it is clear, you have a perfect idea. You've been where I am.
Sandra, I'm so grateful that we've connected. Yes, I've been through similarly precarious situations and feelings of despair and dread. I see you! Just like panicking in water and losing our bearings as a result, being chumped strips us of our sense of reality--it's is such a disorientating experience. It's hard to remember the feel of sand underneath your feet while in this state. I would encourage you to gently allow yourself to settle into and listen to the fear that permeates your body, and allow it to be. When you pause to do that, your body will respond in a way that may surprise you. In my experience, doing so brings my frantic mind back into the body. And you probably know in the depth of your being, that your body can float, and you can trust it to bring you safely to shore. Maybe not today, but one day it will. Sending you lots of hugs as you navigate these murky waters and turbulent waves.
What a wise and wonderful journey you have shared with us, from shipwreck to firmly afloat and in your body, no longer afraid to swim…both literally and toward the safe shore of yourself awaiting you, that has always been there for you, my dear friend. So proud of how far you’ve come & I know the pain it has cost you. But look at you now! Keep swimming! 🏊♀️
Amy, your comment made me tear up! Thank you for your deep witnessing. Your encouragement means so much to me! Who would've thought, that my "journey home" would involve a treacherous stretch of perilous ocean currents from the site of a shipwreck to the shore? But here I am, not entirely onshore, but relishing in the process of learning how to stay calm in water and how to swim home.
This analogy is as powerful as it is beautiful. Perhaps there’s a poem or painting in there, too.😀💗
I can't comment too much. The person who made me into a chump is lurking on Substack. I needed this post today. I needed this help to find my way forward. I am still struggling in the deep water, waves washing over my head, the shore looking very far away and only the intermittent beam from a lighthouse to guide me. I'm confident I'll come safely to shore, though I cannot imagine the feel of the sand beneath my feet.
Thank you for writing this. I'd say you have no idea how you have helped me but reading your post it is clear, you have a perfect idea. You've been where I am.
Sandra, I'm so grateful that we've connected. Yes, I've been through similarly precarious situations and feelings of despair and dread. I see you! Just like panicking in water and losing our bearings as a result, being chumped strips us of our sense of reality--it's is such a disorientating experience. It's hard to remember the feel of sand underneath your feet while in this state. I would encourage you to gently allow yourself to settle into and listen to the fear that permeates your body, and allow it to be. When you pause to do that, your body will respond in a way that may surprise you. In my experience, doing so brings my frantic mind back into the body. And you probably know in the depth of your being, that your body can float, and you can trust it to bring you safely to shore. Maybe not today, but one day it will. Sending you lots of hugs as you navigate these murky waters and turbulent waves.