Lots of tears yesterday during my monthly counseling session with Father Charlie. Glimpses of the transformation lighting up my inner world. It was and is good. I never imagined that healing would ever feel tangible. Trusting the process has been hard and continues to stretch me. I say all this not to declare I have somehow arrived. I am grateful to be where I am on the journey and thankful to know in that deep place inside that if tomorrow I lose sight of it all, I will be okay. Choosing the pen name of Hope has not been a coincidence. My cup of Hope feels like it is brimming over.
On the way to my session I thought about how often I have felt like curling up in a ball and rocking back and forth during my sessions with Father Charlie. So many pain filled feelings, scary and uncertain, often surface during our talks. I decided to give myself permission to curl up and rock if I felt like it I needed to yesterday. I took stock of my physical feelings during our time and then sat quietly for a while, searching out that little girl inside me to see how she was doing. I was totally confused as I saw her coming and kissing me on the cheek before running off to play. After having that image repeat itself like a tape on automatic rewind I finally shared it with Father Charlie. He said, "She feels safe enough to do that." Instant tears.
All my tears yesterday were ones of thanksgiving. In awe of what has been taking place in my life. In awe that it could ever come to pass.
On my coffee table sits a vase of pink tulips. Yesterday one of them, in an earnest desire to seek the light, wound itself sideways until its cheery face could soak up as much sunshine as possible. By the time the sunshine was at its peak, what started the day as a bud had progressed to full bloom.
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