Wednesday Wake-up Call

“Questions and answers that I hope can bring peace to those awakening souls that have awaken to find themselves so far from home.” ~W38

 

“I always wonder what healing really looks like—in body, in spirit. I’m attracted to the idea that the mind, the soul, can heal as neatly as bones. That is they are properly set for a given period of time, they will regain their original strength. Healing is not that simple. It never is.” ~Hunger by Roxane Gay

What does a healed spirit look like?

A violated body.

When I was younger between the ages of five and seven my spirit was broken. Although I would not say it was painful, it was more confusing than anything because it was an act of betrayal. As a child it was hard to relate distrust and violation with someone who tickled you until you cried or protected you from the world. I measure my brokenness of spirit solely based on the damage it produced in my life. Like a run in a pair of stockings the damage ripped through my childhood, teenage years and into my early twenties.

A fighter.

Damage control began in my teens. My signal was regret due to promiscuity that lasted a year. Heading into my twenties, I found forgiveness and the courage to confront the real problem. I began to understand and sit with my pain. I took notice when it showed up and how it made me feel. I began to accept what it was doing to me, at a time when I didn’t have the courage  or the knowhow to change course. This went on for years until I concluded what Albert Einstein quoted, “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

My upbringing helped tremendously, instilling within me the belief that God wanted the best for me.

A black women.

In my late twenties, I had to face the hard reality of being a single mother. It was painful, because I had a different vision of what I wanted my life as a mother to look like. It was welcomed in the end, because I needed to be a single mother, if only to get away from the person that fathered my children.

A strong belief system.

Damage control was immediate once I walked away. I spent all the years with this person contemplating every so often about walking away, but never taking that first step. Then the day came when walking away was my only option.

A resistant soul.

When I lost my brother my mind made a list of reasons why he wasn’t the right candidate for death. He was not a drug dealer – check. Not an alcoholic – check. Not a scum bag – check. Not a killer – check. Not a bank robber – check. Not an idiot – check.

I had to face once again the reality that death is natural and will indelibly come to us all. Day after day I struggled living in a world where a greater emphasis is placed on physicality until I struck a balance where both spiritual and physical existed.

 

“I’m learning to make a home for myself based on what I want and need, in my heart of hearts. I’ve decided that I will not allow my body to dictate my existence, at least, not entirely. I will not hide from the world.” ~ Hunger by Roxane Gay

 

For every time I journey towards healing, it is the need to accept the reality of things that’s the hardest. Learning to embrace the dysfunction as a beautiful well lived life is key. In a lot of ways, I accepted the idea that perfect is: A violated body. An honest account. An ability to stand up. A black girl. A natural head of hair. A small frame. A strong belief system. A thirsty mind. A sensitive soul. A fear of roaches. A resistant soul. A lover of sweet potatoes. A dog lover. A hiker. A promiscuous teen. A single mother. A fighter.

The list is too extensive and as the years go on, it gets longer.

I will conclude that a healed spirit is one that is forever volleying between the highs and lows and is elastic. The healed spirit rushes to the injury with acceptance every time.

“Seeking is the journey, it is the evolutionary footprints of the awakened individual and it will intensify against resistance.” ~W38

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