A little while ago I received a beautiful gift. He left it quietly in a place he knew I would find it. It was lovingly wrapped with a sweet note card. So, I finished it from front to back, the illustrated version of Sorceror’s Stone. As any child will tell you, it was definitely not like reading the book with just words. It was an absolute feast for both eye and soul.
Something to soothe the adult beastie inside that rose up and tried to choke me with panic attacks anytime Weinstein and #MeToo came up at the wrong moment. It’s difficult to say when those wrong moments are going to happen. Some days I am bullet proof, some days not so much. What I do find though, is that when those not so bullet proof days occur, it is best to address the situation from the Unihipili level rather from a Uhane level. The Unihipili is the very child like part of your soul that speaks in emotions. textures, pictures, sounds. . . etc. The Uhane is the logical and, on occasion, the more sarcastic part of the soul.
While these things can be triggering for any survivor, I am glad these conversations are making it to the surface for light to point out. Yes, I am stunned, I know what the stats say the numbers are and, yet, I am stunned. It’s not like knowing a number, it’s seeing the spectrum the numbers live in and the sheer vastness of the beast’s tracks. It’s a whole new kind of anger that swells up. Another moment when the angry Uhane rages about: “after all these years you are still just chattel, only now you get a pretty leash.” She’s wrong, of course. I was never created to be property. I was born as a result of the love of the many people who came before me. None of them imagined me as property.
As a result of finishing book one, I’ll probably have to get book two, a thing to soothe the savage beast. These moments of fragility require a soft hand and distracted eye. A moment to retreat and regroup. I do have to admit that while regrouping my mind does wander into territories of Ash of Rose and porcupine quills. . . hexes, even coffin nails have danced around in my mind, but first, let’s see what the justice system does. I don’t have much faith there, I give you that. We have all seen it fail time and again, so I have my gear all lined up and the list may include judges and lawyers, and probably names of those who tried to bury the truth. . . Nope, not playing.
In the meantime, I think what needs doing is some healing. For all of us. Something that will bring the peace of mind back into all of this crazy and a purposeful path forward. Healing in my mind, is much like yoga at times and like walking backward through the fire you came through at others. In yoga, you are meeting yourself at your edge of comfort and finding a way to relax into it: strength through resilience. The walking backward through fire thing is harder. It’s the unexpected moment that steals your breath and jerks you back to the original damage. It’s that moment where the yoga helps you. You’re meeting yourself again, taking a deep breath, acknowledging the scars and coming out of the fire on the other side wiser and more resilient: trials by fire. It’s important to remember that it’s okay to back off if the fire is too hot. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to wrap yourself up in a sushi roll ( or in my case, a mermaid tail blankie.) and be in charge of the remote control. It’s okay to dissolve yourself in a hot bath and wash it all away. You’ll be stronger for it later. It’s not weakness to recognize a moment that can create more damage than strength.
Healing is an up and down experience. Healing is a very individual process. Embrace yours and rise and fall with it. In the mean time, know you are not alone. You are heard. You are believed. I got your back. #MeToo.
Now where the fuck did I put those coffin nails?
#BecauseWitch #BecauseICan #BecauseNoMore