As a healer, I do a lot of work on myself... it is prudent to do my own healing (or have help) so that I am
showing up as the best, and most honest version of myself for facilitating healings with others. There are
personal healings that feel like a gentle rain shower, and then there are those that buckle my knees and send me crying (nay, wailing) into a pillow for half an hour.
This is about one of those intense healings.
I jumped into a weekly virtual breathwork recently for a 30 minute breath session themed around sacred
pauses - taking the time to breathe in between busy schedules. Let me preface this by sharing that I had
spent the previous two years in a blur of activity - loving most of it but nonetheless feeling the effects of
major stress and burnout.
But I had set an intention before this session... one specifically around the rage I would feel whenever I was
interrupted in a work call, "needed" during a live chat, or asked to use my computer when writing an email.
The rage, like a hot flash, would roil up my body until I felt like screaming (or I actually would scream). It was not every time.... but it became increasingly enflamed and vocal in the past couple of weeks, and I did not wish to continue being like this.
The breath session began... I laid down, I breathed. Familiar feelings and sensations began to wash over my
body and then it all turned - my intention and my breath paired up and took me down a very recent memory in my mind's eye.
There I was, in my kitchen, slapping the wall and screaming because: "WHY THE FARTS CAN'T I JUST DO WHAT I WANT?!"
I began to breathe heavy with ire, feeling disrespected at the fact that no one seems to hear me - see me -
or understand my needs *(okay, quick note in here to say, I am not a melodramatic narcissist... hardly.... well, I AM a Leo so I definitely have flair lol! Then, in my mind's eye, I saw my son standing in the room. I saw his face as he shut down because 'he upset me,' or 'wasn't perfect,' or whatever thought goes through his sweet mind. My breath was caught in the shame I felt by disappointing him.... the tears began.
But then, my son morphed into me. I saw myself at age 7 standing there in his spot. I was raging at myself. I
bawled, feeling terribly for the child who I know intimately well - feeling her shutting down.... of shame for
upsetting her parents... of anger for not being included... of embarrassment for saying "the wrong things"
or "being weird".... her voice was lost, she was lost, behind the needs and wants of others. I sobbed from
this knowing - crying each tear in honor of the vast and mixed emotions held.
Next, I shifted. I became my mother, my father, my siblings, my ancestors. I felt their position of power over the young me and felt lost in their shoes too. They felt the shame I did, over hurting our loved children, but they didn't know how to be different. And it hit me like a ton of bricks that I was perpetuating a cycle of behavior that echoes deep in my ancestral line of "be seen, but not heard," "be patient and let others go first," "be the bigger person," and, "respect your elders." Concepts that are fine in theory, but cultivate powerlessness through the conditioning.
The breath and my intention broke me open - my heart, my solar plexus, my throat... all of it... I wailed into
my pillow from the burdensome sadness of my younger self, of the powerlessness of the child and misused
power of the ancestors, and for my own son - to whom I was teaching this cycle in the present.
Oscillating between reliving the younger me, current me, my son, and my ancestors, I cried and cried until
the young me said "it's okay mommy." She ran forth and put her arms around me and I realized in that
moment, my divine inner child was ready - ready to be done with her upset and pain, ready to forgive my
ancestors, ready to forgive me. The adult me then turned and hugged my own mom, as I simultaneously
hugged my son. This layered hug effectively destroyed the learned ancestral belief that "respect" was
"power."
The young one inside of me released her hug and said that instead of coming home to my body - she must
go to my son's highest self and offer her love to him... for he needs healing too. I absolutely agreed and off
she went to help him remove the new seeds of powerlessness that I had recently planted.
It is because I love my son so much that I was able to dig so deep into this cavity of ancestral pain. The
powerlessness, the voicelessness stops now. It stops with me. Because of this session, the depths I traversed, the tears I shed, I was able to refill the layers of ancestral emptiness with love, compassion, and forgiveness.
My breath finally recovered after a long emotional release and it truly felt like clouds parting from a raging
tempest. I could see shafts of sunlight, I could feel a gentle cool breeze, and the birds sang again. This was a
new beginning, and the opportunity was not lost on me. So, I decided the first thing I would do is apologize
to my son... Then, honor both him and my divine inner child and go to the playground. We spent the rest of
the evening giggling about silly things, going to a restaurant and playing sword fight with chopsticks, and
then watched tv past bedtime.
I am truly in awe of the profound healing that took place - all with breath. Breath is wise. Breath is
courageous.... Breath, beyond any other measure, has begun to teach me how to truly live.
Now, let's take a breath with that
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