I had to hibernate for a while.
Winter came suddenly to my soul. Not a death, per say, but a necessity to hide away in quiet in order to be reborn and transformed. It was brutally cold and dark and the only way to survive was to withdraw and conserve my resources. I didn’t know it was coming. Rather, I may have known in a way, but didn’t yet have the instinct to nourish myself in preparation. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to survive the season.
In hibernation, I shed a skin, a former life, as a fresh me began to come together. As the ground thaws and the stirrings of new life whisper in the breeze, I’m seeing a new world around me as I, myself, am changed.
I’m opening my heart to Love and health. I’m opening my mind to pursue new branches of wisdom and inspiration.
It’s terrifying. As hell. But so brilliant. Like beams of warm, healing light breaking through the forest canopy to kiss the needle covered ground below.
The shedding made room for new. For beauty. For depth. For uncertainty. For adventure.
In slowly, carefully, emerging from my cocoon, and reconnecting more fully with the loves in my life, I am coming to see a new facet of Love’s glorious wholeness.
Love is not linear.
It is a window into eternity. It is the finest wisp of understanding of the Love of our Creator for us, outside of time.
When someone comes into your life, when you let them in, when you love them, you love all the someones they have ever been. All the someones that have made them who they are today. Love doesn’t simply begin at one point and move forward. It is born in the center of a moment and expands to flow out in all directions. To the past that made you who you are. To the future and all the promise of who you can be. To the depths of experience and the heights of emotion.
A friend told me that she loves who I was because that person birthed who I am now. That awkward jean skirt wearing teen me is in her heart just as I am now. It was a deeply healing moment. Teen me smiled through crippling pain. Teen me was not worthy. She was, as Brené Brown so aptly words it in her speaking and writing, “hustling for her worthiness.” In that moment, my friend gave now me, as well as teen me, an exquisitely perfect gift. Love reached through time and gave unloved, awkward, unfriended teen me a friend. A long-aching part of me felt healing.
It was eerily similar to a conversation I had with another friend the night before. We discussed an exercise that my therapist sometimes asks me to do.
“What would 31-year-old you like to say the little girl you that feels in pain and terrified and uncared for?”
“What does 6-year-old you need from adult you?”
It is always an incredibly vulnerable moment. The best moments are.
There is very little chance that I will ever have my childhood pain acknowledged by the ones who inflicted it. But that doesn’t mean the wound has to remain open and weeping forever. In learning the eternalness of Love, I have gained a new ability to give myself the acceptance that every child deserves. The more I learn of Love, of connection, I can more readily acknowledge the trauma I lived through, the pain I carry, and the utter worthlessness that suffocates healing Love.
I am retroactively valued. I can give myself acceptance. All of my selves and evolutions. All of the me’s that felt rejection. Abuse. Denial. Worthlessness. Because I still am and will always be me. In the same way that Love is, has been, and will be.
And winter will come again. That is the nature of life.
But this time I will take a layer of nourishment into the cold with me. I’m feeding my soul with Love and beauty and acceptance. I’m letting the nonlinear, wildly eternal, all-encompassing, divine nature of Love reach into the dark, sleeping parts of me and assure them, assure me, that I am Loved. I am worth. I am accepted. All of me.
Which brings connection. And more Love.