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Whatever Mess You Find Yourself In

“Whatever mess, you find yourself within
Regardless how you got there
When the edifice has slipped away and died
And left you standing there defenseless
Love can heal love can heal
Love can heal love can heal”

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

One of the themes of my life, is “Waiting For My Real Life to Begin.”

Which is, shockingly, not the song I’m using today, but mainly because I’ve already used it a half dozen times, I bet! I’ve also written several times about how I experience time oddly. Like when I see a movie. Especially a poignant movie, I find myself waiting for it to begin. Like, really begin. Soon I realize that the two hours or so are almost up, and it’s wrapping up before I even knew it had begun. Like, really begun. I don’t know why I’m like this, especially for someone who fancies herself a movie heroine every now and then (trying to process that one in therapy, don’t worry). Maybe it’s just that I would have written it differently. Maybe it’s more complex than I can or am willing to understand at this point. And maybe I would have written my own life differently. And yet, it writes itself and the world writes it, and I’m trying to take the pen back – no, not two hours into the movie. Not at the ending, but now. It’s like when you’re waiting for wonderful things to happen, but they’re already happening. They’re just achier and breakier and harder to maintain.

Which of course, makes them more ethereal and beautiful. They’re real.

I’ve been at this weird point with therapy lately. I’m about two months in with one regular therapist, two sessions in with a supplementary therapist, and three sessions in with Sawyer’s physical therapist. HE is three sessions in, I should say. I don’t do a lot of the work. Holidays and viruses have slowed down all of these processes, but that’s the only thing that’s slowed them down. I keep saying, “He’s only three sessions in, and look at how he stands now. He’s only done it three times, and look at how he crawls. I don’t think we’ve really started yet, but I guess I’m wrong, because look at him reach up for me.” Three sessions of micro movements and tiny details and muscle learning. I keep waiting for it to begin, but guess what? It has begun! It is well underway. I keep waiting for the nitty gritty, but the nitty gritty is here. Every session looks different than I’d expect, but every session is based on what we have on that given day. It takes new and unexpected directions each time. It gets postponed and canceled. And yet, the real work is underway. This therapy has an expiration date; isn’t open-ended like the therapy I do.

And it is well underway. It is being written. There is a plot and there is depth.

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

And it’s the same with the therapy I do. I wait for it to really start, even though it started on day 1. It’s like I need to suffer, through EMDR or panic or sobbing or breakthrough after breakthrough. In truth, the work is painfully (emphasis on painful) slow. It’s steady in its growth. It’s winding. Two steps forward, one step back. We can have an outline or a plan, and then something throws it in another direction. Sessions from the past get pushed back, but that’s ok, because they’re deep in the past anyway. The trauma is safe and contained. I can focus more on the present. I can go back and forth and time travel because it’s all going to be handled. That’s something I deeply owe myself – it will come up, but I’m realizing I have choices on pace and depth. If you go down too deep, you may not be able to breathe. If you come up too fast from the depths, you may get decompression sickness. I keep waiting for the nitty gritty, but the nitty gritty is here. Every session looks different than I’d expect, but each session is based on what we have for that given day. The real work is underway. It’s open-ended, but there are timelines. Deep purpose.

Meaning and flow, as it meanders in its odd way.

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

I find myself holding back more than I should. Am I waiting for the real work to begin, or has it been going all this time, and it’s all part of the process? Like Sawyer, it looks different than I had expected. It’s the micro movements in the right direction, the back and forth and upside down and rightside up. It’s the way it’s not linear, and doesn’t even make sense. Yet somehow, we see the progress. He stands when he would have sat. I am calm when I would have been panicking. He crawls on his knees. It’s awkward and stilted and sliding. I make plans for more sessions and more treatment. It’s awkward and stilted and sliding as well. I’m learning that I’m not waiting for my real life to begin. It’s here. It’s hard and weird, like mornings with forced hugs and icy decks. Maybe the puppy eats a toddler sock whole, and I have to make an extra stop to the vet on my way to daycare. I have to spend an extra $300 I had saved for my trip to Scotland, or maybe for a Valentine’s Day gift bear for Scarlet. I try to stay safe and sane and growing. Then, the deck is icy, there’s a sock in the puppy’s belly, and there’s a lump in my throat that I can’t quite swallow yet.

It’s ok. We reshuffle. We reassess. And, we reschedule and make it all align.

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

It gets challenging to push back against heavy weight, like snow falling against your door, when you used to be able to open it and step out into sunshine. Maybe the hardest is behind us, and that’s why it feels like we’re digging out of the wreckage. Maybe the hardest is in front of us, and that’s why it feels like we haven’t begun the work yet. Actually, it’s both. Everywhere. Behind us, in front of us, and all around us like the first snowfall. Upside down and rightside up. Canceling plans, barreling down everything in your path. Covering you with a snowy freshness. Clean slate.

You didn’t even know you needed it.

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

I work harder against the weight of the storm. That doesn’t mean I don’t get out there to feel snow on my tongue; to get dizzy with snow angels and bent over by shoveling the paths. It just means I have to work harder, maybe harder than you, maybe just as hard, and maybe less hard than you. We work with what we have, what we find, and what we find that we have. It doesn’t mean I’m not out there, dizzy with the cold; the laughter. It just means I have to work harder.

Shovelful by shovelful, of deep, beautiful snow.

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

Whatever mess, you find yourself within, Regardless how you got there, And left you standing there defenseless, Love can heal, love can heal

“For a moment, I raise my head
I can breathe the air
Out in the sunlight, in all the colours
Set against, a bed of green a bed of green
Love can heal love can heal”

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2 Comments

  1. I remember a friend saying, back when we had little ones, that she wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to do it. And then she said, “But then I realized, I am doing it.” The close-up perspective differs from the bird’s eye view perspective. It’s all happening, and I believe the current moment is what matters most. The past is over, and the future will unfold.

    Worrying about the future steals energy from the cares of the day. It’s a process to let that worry go, and I work on that!

  2. I ❤️ all these pics, and I Love the SeanaMethod’s comment! Ethereal is a perfect word to describe the aura that is all about and all around this song Tamara. The effects are quite celestial. This video has the same dreamy and visually mesmerizing effects. If l ever have an out of body experience l’m sure l’ll be floating in the air waves of a song just like this one.

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