In my most recent personal post, I shared that I was feeling deep pain.  Thank you to all who reached out, in sympathy and/or curiosity.  And for those of you concerned that my pain was somehow caused by you, I assure you that unless I addressed it with you directly prior to publishing that post, it most certainly did not.  (I was surprised and somewhat disturbed by how many people asked me if they were the ones who upset me.  My intention never was to scare anyone!) 

So, back to the pain.  In my mind, there’s a ten-point scale measuring degrees of pain.  A “1” might be from stubbing my toe and then forgetting about it within a minute afterward.  A “10” would be something horribly tragic – let’s not even imagine specifics.  What I learned only recently is that even an event that in and of itself might merit a “5” on the 10 point scale can feel like a “13” if it hits at the rawest nerves, the core issues, the factory installed buttons.  That’s what happened to me a few weeks ago.

How did I handle my “13” moment?  I cried – a lot.  Now this is a brand new experience for me.  I barely cried at all during the first 3 years after my separation from my now ex-husband.  I was scared to, scared that if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop in time to take care of my kids and my business.  So I swallowed the pain.  Apparently I swallowed it along with artificially sweetened foods and beverages.  Because when I stopped eating them a month ago, the tears began to flow.  First they were over small things – a touching moment on Glee, for example.  Then my “5” happened and hit me like 13 tons of bricks.  I wailed.  I screamed.  I cursed.  I felt dark.  I talked with friends and loved ones.  I talked through the situation with the two people directly involved.  Then I wept some more.  That lasted 3 whole days.  When it was time to move through it, I went for a long walk in the pouring rain.  I bought myself a pretty little silver ring with hearts on it to remind myself I am loved.  By nighttime, I was exhausted, yawning the deepest of yawns that seemed to start at my toes.

The next day I woke up feeling physically lighter.  I remembered why I’d been sad and angry but I no longer felt physically weighed down by emotion.  And then miracles occurred.  The plumber finally showed up to clear my clogged kitchen drain pipe.  I sold my first Independent Study Program, without ever promoting it yet.  I finally figured out how to clear 20 GB off my hard drive so that my computer could run at normal speed again.  I found myself feeling ready to forgive and move forward with the 2 people who’d hurt me.  Coincidences?  I think not.

Moving through the pain, instead of blocking it, has put me on the verge of something huge.  I’m ready.

Have you been avoiding feeling?  Allow yourself to face it for more power to you.