When we are afraid of where the path leads...

I am moving back to Tennessee at the end of May.

I have been going through a tremendous death cycle in my life since June, and it is leading me back to where everything began.

It is hard to imagine walking away from this beautiful life I crafted for myself up here. The support network, church family, friends, and everything I have worked so hard for.

Unfortunately the universe has made it clear that my time here is over for now. It's time to go back and complete the circle.

I am terrified, afraid of giving up everything I worked for. Devastated to watch a field of flowers I planted wither and die out before my eyes. I do not know what the future holds, but I know that in order to do big things, to chase the dreams that have arisen, and to continue being authentic to my own deepest desires, I need to go home.

Part of running away was my attempt to abandon trauma. I thought I could outrun it. It was necessary for the universe to lead me here. I would never have healed past the atrocities that people wearing the badge of "christianity" committed against me if I had not come. It took finding ICCUC before I realized that my pain could not be run from. To heal it, I had to turn and face it head on. I had to admit that the name of the emotion controlling my life was not anger at all, but was actually overwhelming sorrow.

I had to face my pain, tell it that I know its true name. I had to sit with it.

In Greece I laid on the floor of a yoga shala with tears streaming down my face. I cried for the little girl that was abandoned. I cried for the torment she was subjected to. I sobbed for the death of the woman that I thought she could be. Then I heard the universe whisper to me, that she is not dead.. that holding space for my emotions from my trauma created the woman, and that I was embodying her right then.

Since then I have tried to walk that path, and I knew it was leading back to where the trauma began. I knew in order to allow the hatred, fear, and pain to die... I had to go to its grave and say goodbye. I have to go back to where it all began.

I am not the same frightened little girl that fled to the north, hoping a deadened winter wonderland would allow me to burrow my pain.

I am now the grown woman that came to rescue the damaged little girl who once was. I am walking back with my head held high down the path. I know now that in order to heal fully, I have to stop denying that there was a gaping wound in my side. I have to reach to my community and accept support. I have to allow others to love and care for me. I have to love myself enough to allow others to love me. I have to go home, and I am immeasurably changed by what I have learned in Connecticut. I will always treasure the people I have met here. I will always be thankful for the land that held me when I was a wounded animal seeking shelter. But now it's time to say goodbye soon.

It isn't forever, but nothing ever is. I am heart sick, soul sick, and being in this place both delights and poisons me. I can't move forward until I've closed what is behind me. I know this isn't the last time I'll see Connecticut. It won't be the last time I see the city that nurtured my heart and soul. I can't allow myself to never return because it would be as if I had told my own mother that I didn't want to see her again. 

I see this more like a little bird leaving the nest. There is a huge world out there and I've laid the groundwork for myself to explore it, taste it. The desire has become overwhelming. I also have a call to spend a long time in Montana this summer. Paths that wind in spirals are asking me to come back. Once I've healed myself it is my sacred duty to heal others. There is a wound in Montana, I feel it. I am coming. But first, Tennessee.


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