You don’t have to leave. That’s the trauma. It wants to run.
Your true yearning is to be able to hold your own. Stabilize and resource yourself enough so that confusion, manipulation, distortion don’t color your vision.
It helps to rest. To digest. To let whatever is revealing itself, coming in or going out – integrate, land. Use your resources for this. Learn to rest.
Your true nature is quiet dignity. It reveals itself in relaxation. In resting back. In slowing down. In taking your time. In not rushing to do, say, or act.
The trauma wants to tell you what you need and what you don’t need. But you don’t know what you need. And that is a blessing. To think you know what you need is in a way a limitation. A narrowness.
The trauma is for healing and digestion. It’s for integration. It’s not for deciphering needs.
In a way your focus is resourcing the body. Learning what it needs. It’s cues. Providing safety, rest and space for it to unwind. Unravel. For all the seeds that were planted, are planted to rest in nutrient-rich soil. To be watered.
Your focus is to breathe. To breathe deeply. To breathe into. Into the gut. Into the clenches. Into deeper and deeper rest.
To admit your vulnerability, your humanness, your trauma-ness, your wounding, your little child-ness. And to find shade under big trees. Teachers, guides, friends on the path.
There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no shame in that. It’s not about teacher- student. Lesser than or more than. It’s not about becoming someone who knows things too. It’s not about that. And it’s not about collapsing on the one who knows either.
It’s about the quiet joy of feeling connected to yourself. Of understanding your priorities. Not mentally. But in your spine. In your alignment. In your gut. Your root. Learning to trust yourself. Of not letting your movements inner or outer be dictated by others whims and fancies.
And it’s about being able enough, humble enough, wise enough to be in need of help, ask for help, get help and be gracious enough to be able to receive it. And not know anything of it, above it or below it.
Keep walking, though there’s no place to get to. Don’t try to see through the distances. That’s not for human beings.
Rumi