Since Octavia Raheem's book Pause, Rest, Be came out, I have attended two different book clubs featuring it. Part of the reason is because she owned the yoga studio I used to attend, Sacred Chill and I adored the vibe there. Part of the reason is because I love books and any and every opportunity to discuss them.
This book is different. Not only because she is inviting us to take moments of rest in our lives *gasp!* but also because she offers three different yoga poses for intentionally addressing these moments of rest in our lives. It's an invitation to hit the pause button of our life for a moment, assess where we have an opportunity to nurture ourselves based on the season of our life, and simply be in that space. For the first book club I found myself in a middle, in-between space of my life. The yoga pose she offers for this season is the side-lying pose. I dread the in-between spaces of my life, the times when an ending is completing, a new beginning is emerging and all the balls are up in the air. It's uncomfortable and I have always either numbed out in that space or forced myself to 'do' things that make me feel more comfortable because I could say, "At least I accomplished xyz." To be present for that space was a foreign concept. Preparing for that first book club, I acknowledged my discomfort in that in-between space, grabbed multiple blankets and pillows, set my timer for 15 minutes and allowed the uncomfortable feelings to rise as I rested on my side. My legs got itchy. I desperately wanted to move. My thoughts raced. And, at the same time, I surprisingly began to feel accomplished in this act of simply being. I offered myself words of comfort, "this will not last" "everything will work out" "you are exactly where you need to be" A micro-shift from doing to being anchored itself in my body. I found peace in the in-between. At the second book club I attended this past weekend, I found myself in a beginner's season. An ending of who I knew myself to be had recently transpired and an acceptance of the greater Truth of myself was being revealed. Was she going to be safe in this world? Was she going to be accepted and loved? Would she have different dreams than the ones I was already moving toward? In circle with the fellow book club attendees, we dove into a deep, vulnerable conversation about our experiences with the book, then took to our mats. The yoga pose offered for a beginning season is the child's pose. Placing my bolster between my legs, I dropped on to it and allowed my arms to drift down along the sides of my body. I gave permission to be touched when the yoga instructor asked to support us with gentle pressure. My cheek rested on the bolster and after the instructor gently guided me into the pose even deeper, the tears flowed freely. I had no words for what I was releasing. Perhaps it was grief over the old version of me that now no longer existed. Perhaps it was the fear of the unknown version of me. Perhaps it was purely somatic and my body simply needed to be cleansed. Whatever it was, I knew I was supported in this place of rest. After 15 minutes, I slowly worked my way off the bolster praying that the damp spots left behind were only from tears and not anything coming from my nose. Last week I spent time debating taking a pause with my book. I now knew the debate was over. My body is requiring me to pause, rest, be. It's requiring me to discover the new version of me, spend time with her, discover her likes, dislikes, needs, wants. Most importantly my body is requiring the self-love I have so recently cultivated to be directed solely on her and provide her nourishment, comfort, and grace. I am discovering that this ever important pause is part of the path of the writer. Part of the path of the healer. An important part of the path of being human.
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When I was in Florida last week my older sister gave me a box of memorabilia that had been collecting dust in the attic of my childhood home. Most of it I have little use for now as I am not a sentimental collector, but there were about 10 books in there.
Two of those books are the ones pictured here, Just One More Hug - a collection from the For Better or For Worse comic, and Max, The Dog that Refused to Die. When I saw both of them in the box I felt like I received a wink from the Universe. Proof that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and maybe even that I knew I would end up here writing about hugs and helping to heal animals from the time I was a child. While I don't remember specifically reading Just One More Hug over and over again like I did the Max story, the fact that I kept the book reminds me of just how important hugs have always been to me. As far as the Max book, it has been read more times than I could count. The resilience of his nature to keep moving in an attempt to find his family again despite two broken legs and a shattered hip astounded me in ways I couldn't explain. I felt drawn in to believe that anything is possible as evidenced by this true story. I was inspired to believe that animals and humans alike are capable of healing from unimaginable things. To have found these books again at this exact moment in time does not feel like a coincidence. It feels like encouragement, like a gift from my inner child saying "I knew we would end up here. I just knew it. Thank you. Please keep going." I remember before getting divorced being forewarned that 'wherever I go, there I am'. If I was unhappy in the marriage, I would be unhappy outside of it unless I did the internal work first.
It terrified me to think I might be just as unhappy outside my marriage as within it. So I did what I thought was the internal work. I mean, I was seeing therapists, an energy healer, reading alllllll the self help books, practicing self-care, and more. I journaled, took walks in nature, went to sound healings, meditated... you name it. I did it. I felt calm when I finally left my marriage. I was certain I did the internal work and that peace and happiness would finally be mine. I heard when people continued to say I needed to find that peace and happiness before I left, but man, that felt impossible. I was absolutely certain I had to get out in order to find that peace and happiness. There were too many triggers within my marriage. Two years ago Chris and I separated. The first few months were peace-filled. Living in Florida with my sister, I had time to rest away from my triggers. When I returned to Atlanta I was ready to start fresh. The only issue was 'wherever I went, there I was.' The triggers were still there...outside of my marriage. Shit. For the next year and a half the real work began. Self-healing work can be facilitated by all the people and tools I had used, but the actual work could only be done by me. I resisted that as much as I could until I had no choice but to either face my darkness head on or align with it and be ok with living an unhappy life. I knew I was meant for a joyful, peace-filled existence. I wasn't willing to give up until it was found. So, I faced my darkness, aka self-hate. Every day I chose joy despite the fears and beliefs that wanted me to choose different. Sometimes the darkness still won. On those days, I chose grace. I began to learn what it truly meant to love myself. Ultimately, the love prevailed. Now, my days have far more joy, peace, and love than they do darkness. It's true when they say, "Love wins." For the first time in my life since I was a child I can say - and mean it when I say - I absolutely love myself. Every single inch of myself. Every cell of my being. All of my decisions, all of my embarrassments, all of my accomplishments, all of my failures, all. of. me. A week ago I spent time with my family in Florida amidst tragedy. My old beliefs and patterns resurfaced during this time. I found my way back to the unhappy darkness. Driving the 7 hours home by myself I had time to give myself grace and practice loving myself the way I learned over the past 18 months. Halfway home, a smile spread wide across my face as I heard the words in my head, 'wherever you go, there you are'. The feeling that accompanied the statement this time surprised me. It no longer scared me. It had become one that brought me immense peace for I knew that from now on, regardless of where I went, there I would be. "I don't know why I decided now is a good time to write a book!" I cried to my book coaches this week. "I'm trying to start a business, I've taken on the responsibility of being the Atlanta coordinator for Healing Touch for Animals, I just got painful, inconvenient braces (invisalign), and I'm barely keeping my daily life together."
Writing a book and starting a business are two huge full time ventures. It felt daunting; overwhelming to hold them both as a priority while also continuing to be a good mom to my two boys and fur babies, not to mention holding shit together for myself. What the f was I thinking? In a calm, compassionate voice my book coach, Maggie McReynolds offered to provide insight from her outsider's view. Grateful for a potential shift in perspective I accepted. She suggested, "I imagine that the overwhelm you are feeling is from undertaking two major ventures that appear to be separate and unrelated to one another. One path has a direct correlation to a financial foundation and the other seems to be a distraction from that." YES, she gets me. "How do you see it different?" I ask. "I imagine that your hug journeys taught you a lot about the energy of touch, yes?" "oh definitely. The days I wasn't feeling it, my hugs were not as easily or readily accepted for sure. I blogged about that often during My Year of Hugs." "And, these hug journeys led to your own personal soul healing, yes?" Beginning to see where she was going with this, it elicited both a lightbulb moment and a feeling of embarrassment. How had I not seen something so obvious? I began to make connection after connection. Of course I saw how healing the energy of touch could be both physically and emotionally. It wasn't a very big stretch to see how the hug journeys would have caused me to show an immediate interest in a healing modality called Healing Touch. Marrying that together with my lifelong dream of working with animals, it was a natural shift to believe that a program called Healing Touch for Animals might help support my aggressive, fearful chihuahua, Tater Tot. I was taking what I personally experienced that created healing in my own life and used it to heal my own fur baby's traumas. This led to envisioning a future where I bring this healing modality to other people's fur babies. With this connection, I finally saw a path into my future that wove both of these enormous ventures I am undertaking together, a memoir about hug journeys healing my soul and a business healing animals (and people!) through the energetics of touch. The daunting feeling I experienced at the beginning of my call narrowed into clarity. The overwhelm relaxed into purpose. Sometimes when things come together, the impossible leads to what's possible and very quickly the world opens up in the most unimaginable ways. Stay tuned. Last week my mom and I saw a dolphin show at the Georgia Aquarium. Multiple dolphins performed impressive feats of athleticism. For the finale, a couple of the dolphins flipped impossibly high in the air. I was certain with each flip that that would be the one that did me in. I wouldn't be able to hold the tears back anymore and I knew if they started there would be no controlling the immense flood and sobs.
Awe, beauty, and overwhelming joy cause my heart to swell so big that my entire body wants to weep uncontrollably. If I actually let it, what you would see is one great big, ugly cry. You would think something was wrong with me. But, there's not, I'm just overwhelmingly right. I learned long ago that this type of cry makes people uncomfortable because they want to fix what's wrong. They want me to stop. Perhaps because it made them uncomfortable? So, I reserve it for the comfort of my own home, my own space. Books always gave me that permission to ugly cry. I am often by myself as I read so in that safe space I allow the depth of my being to see the light of day. If I can make just one person ugly cry while reading my book because they catch a glimpse of the perfection of themselves, the world, humanity, then my job would feel complete. |
AuthorMelinda Lee is a mom of two adolescent boys, a devout student of all things spiritual, a recovering perfectionist, and immensely fascinated with achieving the unachievable. Currently writing a memoir about hugging strangers. Archives
February 2023
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