Almost 3 months ago I drove across the country to embark on my first real post divorce journey. Well, that’s not entirely true. The journey I had been embarking on in 2020 and 21 looked more like necessary internal healing, but hadn’t incorporated external adventuring, something had I not gotten divorced one month prior to Covid, would have definitely been a part of my post divorce recovery process. But everything happens for a reason, right? I believe that.
My extroverted self would have more than likely found herself avoiding sitting in her mess, processing the discomfort and doing the hard work to feel all of my feelings; to allow them to pass through me, and guide me, so I could ultimately be free to create space to feel something more. The work was hard. The grief was real. It looked like allowing myself the gift of reconnecting with my community of coaches, working with them, teaching more yoga than I ever have, and writing just as much. It looked like living my story and my grief out loud.
Writing about old pain and new pain is different, however. Some say you really just shouldn’t write about the pain until some time has past. I guess this has to do with how our memory tends to distort our versions of the truth. Highlighting and accentuating the positive and downplaying the negative. It would also be my assumption that any pain that comes from a place of sympathetic, fight, flight, is going to sound more like a walking talking reaction than logic and reflection.
So what does any of this have to do with the power of letting go? What I have found, at least for me, is that we can let go in so many ways energetically
from the comfort of our home; we can move our bodies, we can sing, dance, shout, write, and whatever that looks like for me may be entirely different for you. We can create; destroy. You decide. However, there is nothing quite more freeing and permissive than letting go through the act of physically uprooting ourselves. If only for a temporary perspective shift; it works magic every time.
I got divorced on February 14th 2020. A month later the world shut down for what we now know to be as the grand coronavirus pandemic. I sat at home.
I cried. I moved my body. I taught yoga. I wrote. I was a shut in with my daughter. I cooked. I called friends. I bought a Peleton…