Are We There Yet? Three Essentials for Healing Trauma February 17, 2014 • 4 Comments When I was growing up we did a lot of road trips. We’d pack up our hideous sky blue & wood-paneled Mercury Montego station wagon and set off for the adventure at hand, primarily skiing. Sans the electronics of today, Mad Libs, I Spy, books and backgammon provided the entertainment. These games often had a short life span and always ended with the question, “Are we t-h-e-r-e yet?” It drove my mother crazy, as did the statement that usually followed, “I have to go to the bathroom.” Don’t you feel that way sometimes with the healing process? Are we t-h-e-r-e yet? Or, in my case, For god’s sake, aren’t I done yet? Surely I should be normal/healed/whole by now. Then I remind myself that healing is an organic process that takes time. It’s like compost. The old parts of us that are no longer necessary have to be gently broken down into small enough pieces in order to be integrated back into the whole and transformed into our light. Then, the right external elements have to be introduced in order to create the fertile material for growth and change. There is alchemical magic going on here, much like the imaginal cells that create the butterfly from the caterpillar. In pondering those long car rides, I realized that as the miles of highway rolled under our feet, we were learning some very valuable life lessons that can be applied to the long healing journey: patience, curiosity and the art of tolerance. Be patient: As much as we would like to hurry things along, time has a curious way of weaving the heart back together. I don’t know why it is exactly, and I certainly didn’t believe it in the beginning. I thought I would never feel whole again. Ever. But the passing of time creates new places to stand and view the experience that devastated your life. In the beginning, the only view is up close, which prevents perspective. Understand that time is infusing the blessed gift of distance into your healing and adopt patience as your trusty traveling companion. Sometimes, it takes as long as it takes to get there. Be curious: I remember staring out that car window with angst-y, irritated teenage frustration on many occasions. But I also remember looking out upon the new landscapes passing by with great curiosity, wondering what life was like in what seemed to me the “middle of nowhere.” With no place to go, my mind would dream up all sorts of stories about the places we were passing through. Finding myself in a completely new landscape after my husband’s death, it became clear that the only way to disable my fear was to see everything through the lens of compassionate curiosity. Asking simple questions, such as, “What can I learn from this moment?” provided instant breathing space. When in a seemingly hopeless situation, close your eyes for a moment and invite curiosity in. It can drastically alter the scene. Cultivate tolerance: The car rides were often endless – or so they seemed – so we had to develop tolerance for the moment before us. Healing offers this same gift. Learning to be right where you are — in this moment, no matter how excruciating – is a chance to become comfortable in your own skin and to see the deep beauty of your true nature. I think we do this by exercising our tolerance muscle and learning to embrace the uncomfortable parts of the journey. With practice, I believe you will discover you are capable of holding so much more than you think. There are miles and miles to go. I hope you can inhabit each and every one so you are always arriving home at the doorstep to yourself. What are your essentials for healing trauma? -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.