Utterly Broken- Day 1 Stretching Class- Solo Healing Journey, India
I’ve spent years avoiding the pain. Not sitting this way, getting up from that, moving just so to avoid feeling the almost constant pain that is, and now, today, that first two-hour stretching class on that clothed-off roof, and I pushed into the pain. I played with the pain, I invited the pain. It hurts and I want to move to not hurt, and Haim is standing behind me, holding me up ‘like a wall,’ he said, and making me stay in pain. Making me stay in it.
“I don’t want to do this!” I scream inside.
And he’s still there telling me that I can.
“BUT I DON’T WANT TO!” (to myself) and the tears are rolling down my face.
Miranda: “5, 6, 7, and 8, ” and Haim, “Look you couldn’t do that three minutes ago. You’re doing it now!”
I want pizza, I want sex! The latter even more than the former. I’m a caged tiger. I want to avoid this, drown it, forget it, consume something, be consumed, release myself to not be here, let this out ferociously and now!
Miranda: “Again, 5, and 6, and 7, and 8!”
I want my mommy to stroke my hair behind my ear like I did when I was a child. I want my daughter to hug me, and demand nothing, but be against me. I want Kobi’s arm around me, holding me close. I want to be small, folded up in fetal position, protected. Like a bad dream, I just want this to go away.
Haim: “Breathe out. You’re doing great.”
And I can’t stop crying. Rolling, rolling, rolling.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks. Waves, waves. waves. His tattoo has waves, Or is it blue fire? Waves. I need waves. To drown into. Flow out with. To ebb, come, go. Waves.
Me: “No, I can do this.”
Haim: “We can stop.” And, there’s the train. Orange car boxes. Blue car boxes. So many blue ones. Wind, air, fire. I am fire. I can do this.
Me: “No, I don’t want to stop.” and I’m still wiping snot everywhere. I will do this. I am eye of the tiger. I can push through this, better this than the emotional ones from my addiction. I died there. Here, I won’t die.
“It just hit me so hard I can’t breath. Can’t. Breathe. I’m drowning. Rolling down, down, down into it, groping for air, for some root to hold onto to keep me in the sunshine, but the sun is gone and the roots have all rotted… And all around you, all the blessings and logic and love in your life, vanish, vacuumed up into an abyss of never-again’s and what-if’s that you know simply no longer have a place in your life.”
And … Because there is something deep inside of you that knows that playing with this fire WILL BURN YOU and thus, you’ll keep cutting that salad, putting the kids to bed, and yelling at anyone around you to get out this pent-up tension that has no where to go. And so, you’ll eat that chocolate cake with vengeance and you’ll pick that fight just because, and you’ll cut someone off in traffic or cut someone up with your glance, but then, then, then you’ll breathe and know that you are stronger than this temptation and more powerful than this moment and more full of light than that darkness disguised as salvation.” from How to Live with Your Addiction
And from there:
As I work on rebuilding myself, on recreating the ‘who I am’ without some strong external influence supporting that; I find I need help. I need something to inspire my soul, to push me forward when I feel like sinking down between the rocks of despair. That, exactly that, is what we are meant to do, over and over and over again in our lives. We are meant to redefine, rediscover, rebirth ourselves. We are not meant to grasp to those roles, accomplishments, relationships that define who we are. We are meant to go faaaar out of our comfort zone and be naked, again, figuring out who we are now, and again now, and again now- new every minute. And so, this process has left me naked, but seeking. Here is the light that I am creating, for me, naked, to bask in. They inspire, uplift, and direct me to exactly the direction (I think) I am meant to follow. from Basking in My Own Light- My Addiction, Part 6 [FYI:the best of all songs are on this link]
To here with Miranda smiling, the others pushing themselves, each with their own injury or deformity; and I, I feel so broken:
The addiction, the emotional pain, I couldn’t bare to do that again, to die again, to lose myself so fully that there was no light. To be a walking dead, a depression with no air, a dull ache that someone sat on and just go worse, and worse, better, and then worser than ever. And to live with chronic pain, to have a constant excuse why I can’t fully celebrate my life and do what I love and push myself and live in nature and with my kids.
No, no, no, no I prefer this pain. Yes. I choose this. The dissonance of who I thought I was (strong, healthy, in-shape) and the understanding, like Haim said, that ‘now, now, I get it. I’m really in trouble,’ is hard for me. And when he handed me the red rope to pull myself, and I felt like, no, I understood, that I am in rehab, fuckin rehab! that brought up deep gorges of pain.
Haim: “Let’s stop for today. You’re doing really great.”
Me: “I want to do just one more set.”
And on and on.
I barely got down the stairs. Would have been easier to throw me, or roll me. Everything hurt, and where did all the emotions come shooting out of? Where? I thought we were past all of that? I thought we fixed that, healed that, forgave that, released that? Where is it coming from? Am I back there again? Again?
And on motorbike on the way home, I’m licking my wounds, pitying myself and how hard this shit is and how emotional it is and then I see Will, walking canes going, walking, hobbling his way way, way down the road, not defeated, but with the look of a proud lion beaming through his eyes and his shining face and a puffed out, powerful bare chest. He’s determined. He can do this. There is no doubt, when you look at him, that this, he will do.
Thank you Will. This is what I needed. To see you, to be reminded that I can do anything, and I can walk through fire, and this, I will do.
Any thoughts? Do, or don’t. I’m still here with pride. Bent, not broken.
The Solo Healing Journey in India starts with First Evening Back in Goa. It’s a happy post. Everyone’s smiling and joyful, not like in this tough one.
And it continues to more hell, but from a different angle of enlightenment, Solitary Misery, Insanity, Blessings and Forever Young- After a Week of Treatment
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Insanely unorthodox, embarrassingly honest, and on her path towards spiritual awareness, Gabi Klaf blogs about her family’s ups and downs in their now third year of non-stop budget world travel. This family of five has lived with an indigenous tribe in the jungles of Ecuador, hitchhiked throughout the world, danced with drunk Vietnamese at weddings, and hiked the entire Annapurna Circuit trek with a documentary film crew in tow. Gabi writes about the untold sides of family travel life, those moments that take your breath away, adventures and mishaps while globetrotting, and how bits of her soul remain in this small town and off the side of that river. She is a guitar-stumming, energy-healing, ADHD wind-loving scaredy cat. Hugely romantic, tantalizingly sweet, and hysterically funny, Gabi Klaf represents a rare Rubik’s Cube of family world adventure.
We’re out doing crazy stuff and making our dreams come true, every single one of them, and a few more that sort of flew into our mouths while we were smiling into the wind. Should you like what we are doing as a family, BUY AN EBOOK to support us, share this, tell any media source or local newspaper, leave a comment. Your footprint makes all the difference in the world friends. Gracias!
Gabi and Kobi, Dahnya, Orazi, and Solai
And, sweet new news loves: In addition to parenting, family life and trauma therapy, Gabi is now offering Make Your Dreams Come True/We Wanna Travel But.. Coaching too. Engage with Gabi!