Digging

In life, there comes a time, when you will have to go digging.

You will dig for things in your past that shaped, changed, or hurt you. You will dig for things in your present that no longer serve you, that rob your energy or take pieces of your soul. You will dig for your beliefs, your spiritual self, and your place of belonging in this world.

You will find that you will want to put off the digging. It’s exhausting. It’s challenging. And it’s honestly – pretty painful. Even if you tried hard to view your life as a fairy tale – things happen, life gets messy, and hearts get bloody and broken.

But if you want to grow and truly grab hold of the experience of living…you  need to enter the portal to your past. And you need to find a way to heal the places where you got hurt.

I remember a time before I went digging. I referred to myself as the “old me” and the “new me”. I recall one of my beloved sisters asking why I did that, and telling me that there is no “old me” or “new me”. There is just “me”.

It was at that moment – that my digging began.

I surrounded myself with the past. I drank mugs of steaming, ginger tea, and I opened the sealed, dusty boxes that contained both joyful and painful pieces of days gone by. I listened to the Todd Rundgren, Dan Fogelberg, and Genesis albums that were hidden deep in my attic. And I allowed myself to revisit things I had buried.

As the old, familiar melodies reached my ears, and the old, forgotten treasures were held in my hands, I picked up my shovel…and began to move earth. And the “new me” allowed the “old me” to experience and deal with everything I had locked away.

Sometimes it takes words from a loved one to push you toward your healing work. And sometimes it happens when you’re surrounded by the stillness of nature, and it is quiet enough to hear the whisper of God.

Wherever or however it begins, when the shift occurs, you can feel your soul opening. There is a quickening around your heart. You will see a childhood friend, a lone tree in the snow, or a tattered, old love letter. And the walls you built that separate your past self from your present self, come tumbling down. The memories of days forgotten, come flooding back. And the “who you once were” meets the “who you are now”, and they smile at one another, and they share a well-needed hug, and they forgive each other, and they invite each other in, and they meld into one being…and they carry on together.

In that holy moment, you finally become who you always were, who you have always been, and who you always will be. And you finally understand the words to your favorite, Dan Fogelberg song – the one you listened to in the bedroom of your youth. And you let go of the hurt, make peace with the past, and give yourself permission to “Love when you can. Cry when you have to. Be who you must. It’s a part of the plan.”

Happy Digging. XO

Peace and Love,

Carole Rose