Humbled & Healing.

The ways we bend when things don't go our way.

Be humble for your are made of earth. Be noble for you are made of stars. ~ Serbian Proverb

Recently I got a job.

I have been working for myself for more than 16 years. In 2005 I graduated from The Northwest School of Massage. Immediately, I went into practice for myself, renting a room in my dad’s office building and being embraced by his thriving holistic healing practice. Dad is a naturopath, chiropractor, and the creator of dozens of healing/transformational modalities (including Matrix Energetics, which I have written about before in a previous essay).

My practice filled up and took off quickly thanks not only to the referrals and location, but to my own skills. I am a damn good massage therapist. I have “the touch”. Over the years, I went on to teach with my dad, develop a couple of programs on my own, and get certified as a hypnotherapist.

As far as being part of the of fantastically wealthy coaching industry goes: I would not count myself a part of it. I have never in my life had a “six figure month” and I could care less if I ever do.

The work I have been diving into (over the last few years in particular) is slow, rooted, and built primarily upon safety.

I have learned how humans function in regards to trance and how (nearly) every issue—physical, emotional, and relational—can be traced back to a trance-induced trauma of some type. I have learned about our nervous systems and how healing can only occur within our current neurological capacity.

I, myself, have healed my own anxiety to an incredible degree over the last few years with these practices and I have clients that no longer suffer from anxiety and panic attacks (in part) because of the work that we did together.

The work I do is deeply satisfying. So why get a job now?

I am burnt out.

Not on the work. I don’t know if I ever could be burnt out on helping people heal and discover themselves, but on all the other things that it takes to keep my practice running: the marketing, promoting, and social media presence that is required. Granted, to a degree, this is all also fun for me. However, when I recently got booted from Facebook with no warning—it hit me really hard. Over 2,000 “friends” gone instantly. Years of content. Hundreds of people in groups I created… gone.

If that were not enough, my family is going through some significant challenges, for which I have been called into a mode of action and behavior that I would frankly rather not be in—but need to.

Other entanglements are coming unraveled as well and I find myself consistently whispering… surrender.

Life is bending me and I can be stubborn like the Oak that is uprooted during the storm or I can be like my beloved Willows and bend.

I am bending.

I am spending more time in my bed with my sand pillow laid atop my belly, draped over my ribs, or resting on my pelvic bowl. (This is the equivalent of “Belly to the Earth” when the temperature is in the teens.)

The job I have taken is working with elders, providing in-home care. Though I have been at it for only a week, I like it. The ladies I am spending time with are crones and I feel that, in spite of my youth, they feel the crone in me.

“You are not like other people.” My 95 year-old charge said to me after I “rubbed” Icy Hot and lotion into her legs for near on ninety minutes.

No, I am not. And I know I am not.

Though I now find myself in a career that I would never have anticipated engaging in—it suits me. And as friend (and student) recently stated, “It’s still in your wheelhouse.” Yes, it is. If I stay with this a pace (and I most likely will) I may wind up holding one of these women’s hands as they prepare to meet the Reaper and that suits me fine.

The business of dying is incredibly humbling for we are reminded of what most of society would like to sweep under the rug—our impermanence.

“The Work” will continue. My work—inner and outer—meeting and tending the soil, the beasts, and the babies that need to be fed. I will also keep working. I will never abandon my (professional) practice. So if you find yourself seeking comfort, direction, and guidance—I am here.

And I am humbled and healing another layer whose name I cannot yet speak and I am not sure if or when I will, but in the meantime I offer you this and any other part of my heart, words, and wisdom that might benefit you.

Humbled.

When things do not go as we want, we wish, or as we expect.

This is the way.

Rolling with the punches, making the hard calls, and doing the damn thing that we do not want to do—but need to.

This is the way.

It is laughing when the car won't start. Borrowing jugs of water from the neighbor, taking sponge baths with a kitchen bowl and and large hand towel when the house has been without running water for days.

This is the way.

It is submitting to waves of panic when worry threatens to engulf my entire body. It is finding breath after the terror runs its course and choosing direction that alleviate the intense stress, though those actions may also stir a hornet's nest.

This is the way.

It is admitting that we are not the answer for everyone—no matter how hard our heart wants to argue. Neither do we have all the answers, though we know we are unfathomably clever and even occasionally wise within reasonable measure.

It is admitting we just don't know.

This is the way.

It is getting a job that we would no choose, yet it chooses us and we find ourselves in actual service to someone in need. It is tending young cantankerous beings and older, even more cantankerous souls—bodies too young to care for themselves and bodies too old to, once again, make their way in the world alone.

This is the way.

Maybe this is not your way, but it is as of late mine.

And I am out of practice with poetry, and artistry and have felt like I am just barely surviving. Like so much I know is now uncertain and the ground is shaky and I am just now stuffing my nerves back into my body.

This is the way.

This is my way and it is slower than I am used to, and it is less glamorous than I would have liked, but it is more real than anything I have felt in ages and I would have real over fake, pretend, and fantasy no matter the cost.

And I will be humbled by it because this is the way.

~Justice