I see a healing my body has been growing for me.

This gentle ever expanding curiousity. Like a hand on my shoulder – wordlessly assuring: yes, I see. 

The fear you feel is not imaginary. Your experience is true. 

Oh what resilience it’s taken to survive, to keep yourself safe from the powerlessness of being punished and the painful unpredictability of safety.

And see, now, truly — your body and your life are yours.

On paper, an image bears witness to a chasm that is not imagined. And the power of possibility becomes increasingly present.

All those years. All through the chaos of trying to survive, trying to make sense, trying to predict what was coming, and dashing to squeeze in some uninterrupted play and fun.

And yes, the lonely perplexity of trying to parent while reading someone else’s map.

The grief of violence and rejection, handed down from one frightened and frightening generation to the next.

The drive to find a more powerfully peaceful way to thrive, nurture … and feel safe.

The longing to connect from the heart. The hope that repair is possible. Again. And again. Sooner. And sooner.

I see, this is where you are leading me, dear mind and body.

Into expansiveness, safety, curiousity. I don’t need to fight you, resist you, suspect you. You don’t need to be chastised or pushed.

You need space. Trust. Presence. To be seen for your intentions.

You want the very best for me.

Look, see how we’re growing, mind and body together — every moment more able to soak sunshine and warmth and safety and joy into these bones.

That danger is past. Ferocious and everpresent as it was.

You can relax. We can play. Trust us — this body and mind are safe to meet at last.

Joy is life’s upwards spiral, now … and now … and now.

You’re safe to grow that peace. You can dare to offer that presence. You’re free to pass it on.

May each generation heal, faster than the last.