“…a still small voice.”. 1 King: 19: 11-13
Alone. A word that described how I felt a year ago, when I began to face a very hardest part of my past and has been by far, the hardest part of my grief journey. The rape. I still can’t tolerate that word. Rape. It still makes me cringe even as I type it out. However, it occurred to me that while the word may bother me, the good news is: I am able to actually type it out. It is something that I can hold in my present mind without judgement or fear. I cannot change what happened or erase that memory of those life-altering moments of violence, but I can change how I respond. It has taken me an entire year just to settle with that one thought. One thought, yet a POWERFUL one! How I choose to move forward is my truth. And to get to our truth in life, sometimes it has to be done alone. In fact, it can ONLY be done alone. Let me explain…
I know that for a while now, I have mentioned over and over how my son’s death brought me to the light. Well, let me back track and explain a little further. My broken heart had burst wide open after losing him and I will always love my son. I will always grieve for him and that prevents me from hiding in denial. And because of this, I felt as though I was floating around without any grounding. Denial kept me grounded for so long, so this was new territory for me. Years of suppressed pain was finally spilling out and to many of my friends and family, it may have looked as though I was regressing. But I wasn’t. I was finally facing the truth of my reality; therefore, denial wasn’t my anchor anymore.
The truth is: what I was accountable for from my grief was what I needed to face, in order to move forward. I needed the reality of this truth to surface so I could surrender and regain my power. I had no momentum in life, no matter how successful my outer world was, I was stuck on the inside. I realized, all my success whether it was my career, re-establishing and strengthening my marriage, being a mother, was never going to make me ultimately happy and move forward until I faced my own truth.
So, without looking back, I did. I have had a team of healers surround me this past year and they guided me, as I take one step at a time. One day, while in a session with my spiritual counselor, he listened as I started to shake and cry out of nowhere. I went from good to a complete panic attack. He sat completely still and observed and listened to my rambling. Then he asked me something that I NEVER expected, “What was your part in the rape?” Excuse me? MY part? I trusted him and paused before answering. I looked at him for a long time. The first thought that came to mind was my sweet angel son. So, I told him and he said, “Perhaps he is here to help you see your truth.”
In that moment, I was suddenly at a crossroad, in which I could keep crying the same sob story over and over as I had for years. Or I could switch tracks, rise up and allow myself to actually face what happened to me. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks that I had not faced the nightmare from that night due to my denial that I was still in! I LIED to myself for so long that it kept me in fear leading me down a path to nowhere. And the truth was, I was the one doing that to myself. Not my rapist. I was the one at fault for how lost I was. That was my truth. And when I opened that door to the truth of my responsibility, there was nothing but wide open space. No one was in it but me. I was completely terrified and liberated all at the same time.
I was alone in this new inner space because I needed to be. I so badly wanted to turn back and run into the arms of my husband, Jason where I would be safe. When I looked at Jason that night, he saw something different in me. He knew I was finally at this crossroad. Instead of lending his hand to help me through, he waved me off. He gave me space to complete this task on my own, yet he stayed witness to it at the same time. Waiting for me to come out from the other side, into my truth. God, how I love that man.
Jason stood behind, letting me go into the sound of sheer silence…blowing whispers of love.
It has been a year of not only ups and downs, but terrifying moments of triumph. Yes, terrifying. This is because when we face our truth, our power is not far behind and that scares many of us. It requires change and making different choices. My soul was searching for inner peace and joy and only I could be the one to do it. I needed alone time to allow room for my soul to expand in quiet time. Within this silent new space, I felt sheltered, not by anything human, but by the Divine Love. Purging difficult emotions eventually gave way to something new. There was a shift within and subtle, new manifestations emerged. Loneliness turned into aloneness and there is power behind this.
Loneliness is lack and aloneness is completion; an overflowing feeling of strength and joy from within.
This aloneness that I managed to fit into my busy mom schedule slowly altered my consciousness to embrace a new way of being. I started to learn about myself again, the real me, underneath years of trauma, grief and pain without the voice of others to distract me. Instead of letting myself run the other way from being alone, I surrendered to it. I learned how stillness can allow the panic to flow through me and miracles to emerge into my awareness.
Then God’s glorious magic began to stir my soul, clarity and serenity embraced me for the FIRST time in my life. Sometimes life calls you away, venturing down a path, alone. And what I found was that I could trust my guidance from God. I began to TRUST my own new thoughts again and control the negative ones through meditation, yoga and breathwork. What I also noticed, was the fear of BEING alone had completely diminished. Yes, we are creatures of comfort and love company, but we should not be afraid of a silent, empty room. There is power in that silence.
Aloneness suddenly became my best weapon against the shadows that had hidden deep beneath my consciousness.
Grief sits well in silence. God’s voice is in silence. The grief is STILL there yet, the lessons came in being still with my pain and fear. And listening to the still, small voice within…whispering Love.