There is a lot of talk about gratitude these days and I am a big practitioner of bringing it into my life by keeping track of the things that give me pause, make me smile or fill me with a deep sense of reverence. I love this practice because it is a record of the beauty and goodness that I’d likely forget in the long run. Strange isn’t it, how we so easily forget the good and remember the bad. When I open the pages and look over the entries  it fills me with joy which perpetuates the motivation to record the magic.

I don’t think of being grateful as another item on my “to do” list. It is a state of mind, as well as an important building block of healing, because it counters the sense of scarcity that can set in after a traumatic event. Life tends to look half empty. It can feel even worse.

One of the most important things to cultivate, particularly in the immediate aftermath of a trauma, are practices that give you healing buoyancy and create pockets of relief that keep you afloat in the turmoil. We are looking to create a sense of safety while the mind, body and spirit catch up to what has happened.

I think it is imperative to give yourself permission to engage in these kinds of activities.

In the days after my world was rocked by tragedy, I felt as though I weighed one thousand pounds. I remember thinking and saying this aloud quite often. It was the strangest feeling, like my veins had been injected with lead. It was difficult to breathe, at times impossible to even move. When I slept, I had horrific visions of a landslide coming down upon me, pinning me underneath a dense mountain of mud.

I countered these visions with images of the space I inhabited beneath the mud being a cocoon. It was a place I could safely hide while my body acclimated to the new environment. Eventually, I began envision openings that let streams of healing energy in. This seemed to ease the feeling of weighing a ton.

I could not go out in public for the first eight weeks without a hat, sunglasses and earphones. It was protective armor and a way to block out the noisy environment that was an assault on my senses. There were times when I was at home when all I could do was lay flat on the ground as a way of establishing a sense of stability.

I see these slightly odd behaviors as little steps that created the pathway through the acute pain. When I look back over my practice of being grateful, even during those dark days, and read some of the entries, “Realizing at forty-seven that I have an opportunity to live better,” or “Belly laughing with my incredible children,” I understand that the act of writing those moments down and being able to revisit them now is a precious gift I created for myself.

I encourage you to actively curate a collection of healing practices that will help you travel from the devastation of loss to an integrated and healthy future. Even if they seem odd, honor them as messengers from your healing soul and practice them with great joy and abandon.

What are the ways that you create healing buoyancy? Do you give yourself permission to do what it takes to find safety and comfort in the chaos?

-db

Who is Dianna Bonny?

Hi, my name is Dianna Bonny. It’s my mission to candidly share my journey with you. For me, it’s all about the healing: to create a radiant healing energy for others who have befallen a similar fate. Together, we can forge beautiful lives of belonging and connection. Thanks for joining me today! I look forward to hearing from you.