One of my healers was talking to me and declared, “You’ve dealt with so much because you’re meant to heal the world through your experiences.”
I felt so seen in that moment.
Not because I have world-sized grandiosity—I truly believe that my job is to impact a handful of people’s healing so that they can impact a handful of people, and so on.
Not because I identify with my pain—I have had A LOT of chronic physical issues and some challenging social and emotional experiences, including PTSD, but I don’t think of myself as a martyr or tortured soul.
Quite the opposite.
I’m just someone who has been through a lot of experiences and remained dedicated to finding my path through them.
I have a certainty that if something can be broken, there’s an equal path to “better” (knowing that better rarely means returning to your old self physically or emotionally!!)
And it is true, I am a person who takes that pain and never withholds what I’ve learned if it can be of service to others.
So as a yoga teacher, when someone would say pigeon was causing a sensation “here,” I was down on the floor in pigeon next to them, creating the sensation in my own body. I could then recall how I had worked through it with yoga or physical therapy in the past and help them adjust the posture or recommend additional homework.
And as a therapist, I am never shy about removing stigma by sharing that my nervous system has struggled similarly in the past. I help people know that I have lived experience of making it through to the other side so they can hold hope for themselves. And I know the path—not just intellectually, but in a deeply embodied way. I FEEL my way into it with others.
And as a fellow human, I am happy to offer compassion where it is lacking, kindness because it is necessary, and support because who doesn’t need some relief from their load?
Remember my motto?
Be love. Feel love. Do love.
And over my years as a helper/healer, I have witnessed so much of this same quality in other humans. Clients overcome the hardest stories, only to decide that they want to help others through similar things. (Note, this is not a mandate of personal healing—sometimes we just want to be done with the topic or we have stronger interests in other areas—but it is something that happens quite a lot. Someone survives trauma and then wants to help others find their way through it.)
And so this isn’t even unique to me, this desire to be of service and to use pain to create beauty. Not by a long shot.
BUT
When you’re in the middle of a challenge and someone sees the pain WHILE seeing your potential WHILE being compassionate WHILE helping you take a step on that journey…
There’s a part inside most of us that longs to be witnessed that way.
Not just comforted. Not just encouraged. Not just told that everything will be okay.
We want someone to see the reality of what we’re carrying without looking away. To acknowledge the weight of it while also holding faith in who we are becoming. We want someone to remember our strength when we’ve temporarily forgotten it ourselves.
Sometimes healing isn’t finding the answer.
Sometimes healing is being reminded that we are more than the question.
So I softened, and my body released the bracing against the physical pain as it remembered there’s a beginning and an ending to every experience and that my inner alchemist would soon know the formula for transmutation into something bigger and more beautiful than this moment of pain (this limited self who is feeling the pain now) can even imagine.
Her seeing me reminded me of my truth, my strength, my purpose, and took me out of the moment and into possibility.
What a gift.
How about you?
Who has seen you this way?
Who has held compassion for your struggle while also holding faith in your capacity?
Who are the people who help you remember yourself when life tries to convince you that you are only your current struggle?
And perhaps just as importantly: who in your life might need that kind of witnessing from you right now?
Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer isn’t advice, solutions, or silver linings.
Sometimes it’s simply seeing someone clearly enough that they can remember who they are.
Love, Renee