A couple of weeks ago, I got a call from my daughter at 2 a.m. saying she had gotten in a car accident in Canada. (She's fine!) Once upon a time, a call like that would have had me jumping out of bed with a racing heart, but this time was different. I was calm the whole time that I was getting ready and going to retrieve her. She was not hurt and that was truly all that mattered in that moment to my nervous system.
In years past, I would have presented a composed front to the world during a situation like this, but it took a lot of effort to don the appearance of calm when my heart was beating out of my chest. This calm is different; every organ, muscle, and tissue in my body feels deeply composed. There is no window dressing. This is authentic. The inner and the outer correspond.
I've had a couple of other emotionally upsetting experiences lately too-- things that would have evoked a strong emotional reaction from me in the past. But I find myself moving through these experiences with relative ease. It's not that I don't have feelings, it's just that those feelings no longer affect my body the way that they once did, and that makes them a thousand times easier to acknowledge, honor, and release to the universe. None of it is meant to stay inside my body. It doesn't belong to me.
The more upsetting the experience, the more likely it is to activate my nervous system-- particularly if it triggers old emotional wounds. But even when things are very triggering, I find it easier to observe my own emotions as they arise and leave me. Everything dissipates faster and I return to regulation much more quickly. During these moments, I've noticed that my internal Observer (higher self?)-- whatever you call the part that oversees meditation sessions and watches thoughts and feelings arise and leave-- can observe all of my innerworkings and understand them all. It can see that my body still houses an old version of me alongside a new one. When an upsetting event occurs, I do sometimes see my old reactivity kick in at first. But when my Observer notices it, it can shift my focus to the newer version that I am still becoming, and I can shift into it. That newer version views every single moment as a gift from the universe, no matter what it is, and trusts that it is in my highest good, even if it hurts like hell in the moment.* Pain is a teacher, not a punishment. And with a well-regulated nervous system, I can integrate those lessons very quickly and simply move on. There's nothing from the past to get hung up on.
It's interesting to me that the old version of me is still accessible to me if I choose it. I can access the old thought patterns and harmful narratives that I used to repeat to myself all the time-- stories that trapped me and further activated my nervous system in a vicious cycle. They are well rehearsed. Now when I access that old self, I find myself seeing as if from above how the situation I am in would play out if I were to allow that self to control my behavior. Every time I do, I always land on the thought of middle-of-the-night sweaty anxiety, which is the pit of hell, and that's basically where all of that kind of self-talk leads.
I am so grateful for this new perspective, and I recall so well what life was like before I acquired it, that I would never consciously choose to return to my old self. I see my life through new eyes as it is unfolding. I have conversations with my old self sometimes and then I choose better. This is what actual healing looks like.
* The Uses of Sorrow
- By Mary Oliver
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)
Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.
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