As I’m building my journal therapy practice, a big part of this work has been articulating how I came into reflective writing. With the help of my new marketing goddess, something has really struck me; my whole life has been about creating a safe container for story:

My personal story, the stories of the characters I inhabited, the stories of my performers, the stories of our audience, the stories of my imagination, the stories of the authors I work with, and now I’m creating a safe container for the stories of my clients.

I’ve accomplished this with a fair measure of grace in my professional life. I’m humbled by the ways I’ve seen this emerge with the work I’ve done.

In my personal life, I’ve really missed the mark.

Intimate space is so much more vulnerable, isn’t it? We’re stripped of the filters and layers we create with fourth walls, professional detachment, suspension of disbelief. 

There are no characters in intimacy. Nothing to hide behind, except the generations of trauma and the patterns of behaviour we create in response.

This last month has been a practice in integrity. I’ve said all that I can say. I’ve moved in true alignment. It’s been incredibly painful, but I’m okay with that because I know it’s a necessary step in my evolution.

At the end of September, I began a series of posts exploring my recent breakup through the lens of Elisabeth Kubler Ross’ five stages of grief. As always, the writing was a powerful tool to help me move through the emotion.

It’s been an intense experience, moving through this loss and change without all the usual distractions I would seek out. COVID has made it impossible for me to plan nights out with friends, to date my way through the heartache, and I don’t dare try to drown my sorrows with alcohol, because there are just too many reasons to keep drinking these days. 

I made the conscious choice to sit with the difficult feelings, and see what they would reveal. I recommend this to all of you. It’s painful, but I’ve learned so much.

I accept that my intuition and higher knowing responded in the best way to lead me to that which is meant for me. 

I accept that it is too painful to try to pursue those places, people, and things that are very clearly not meant for me, not able to engage with me, and not interested in me.

I accept that my actions and reactions will always have consequences.

I accept that both people need to be aware, accountable, and willing to change and grow to be able to move through relationship difficulty.

I accept my part in things, but I also accept that it wasn’t all my fault.

I accept that we didn’t create a safe container. I also accept that it’s time now to move ahead with all I’ve learned.

I accept that when things are meant for me, they will be clear to understand and they will fill me with joy and purpose. They will reinforce my potential and my goodness while challenging me to continue to grow.

I accept that no matter how I have wanted things to be different, or how long I’ve wanted things to change, things are exactly as they are.

I accept that it is a bad idea to build my future with anyone but myself until I know, without any uncertainty, that I can do so. 

I accept that my own autonomy and independence are the keys to the security and stability my son and I both deserve. 

I accept that the kind of deep, connected love that I want is out there.

I accept that I will find someone who has the capacity for me.

I accept that this time in my life is meant for me to love myself, and I accept how good it feels to be tucked away in my own company.

I accept that these new tools for working through my emotion are what I’ve always needed. That time, and space, and silence are what are required for my own deep healing.

We all have things in our lives that are difficult to accept. What happens when we arrive at the place where we can sit with all that is happening in the present and find stillness? We don’t have to be happy about it. We don’t have to create some sort of false ‘brave face’. We just have to be aware that the only thing we can control is our response and our ability to remain grounded. 

The next time I enter into intimate partnership, I’ll strive harder to create what I offer my clients; a safe container for truth.