Whereever you go, go with all your heart. Confucious
When the pain of what we are living becomes greater than our fear of changing, we let go. When our fear of drowning swamps our fear of holding onto nothing, we start to swim. And when the pain of believing we are worthless becomes too great to bear, we surrender, and fall, in Love.
Like a ping pong ball being forced down into a glass of water, pain rises, over-flowing the container, rushing over our fear, setting us free to feel our spirit calling us to awaken, to gather up our wounded heart and swim away from the place that would have us believe, ‘this is all there is’.
There is so much more.
To living. Loving. Being. Experiencing.
There is life. There is Love.
When I was embroiled in that relationship that was killing me, I believed the pain of my existence with him was all there was, all I was worth, all I deserved.
And then, the police walked in and set me free and I discovered, I was wrong. That pain-riddled existence was not all there was. There was a world of wonder, of joy, of beauty on the other side of my fear that ‘this is all there is’.
On that day in May, 2003, I could not have known what was about to unfold. All I knew was that I had told the Universe I could not take the pain of my existence any longer. And the Universe delivered. For months at the end of that relationship, I kept repeating, “I can’t take this anymore.” I kept telling myself I was at the end of my rope. I let my fingers slip along the rope, but I couldn’t let go. I was hanging on by a thread, I wanted to let go, but my fear of falling was greater than the pain of my existence.
Thomas Jefferson once said, “When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.”
Sometimes, all we have to hang on to is a thread. And that thread is all that holds us back from letting go.
In my mind, at the moment of holding onto that relationship, letting go meant ceasing to exist. It wasn’t that I thought of ‘death’ as an out. It was that I simply did not want to exist. To be.
I thought if I could just let go, ‘it’ would all be over. The pain. The sorrow. The fear. The suffering. It would all be gone.
And then, I surrendered and let go and the Universe caught me and I fell, in Love.
And that was my awakening.
The Universe was always there, holding me up, supporting me, Loving me. It wasn’t the cause of my pain. Holding myself in that painful place was what was hurting me. The Universe wasn’t to blame for where I was at. ‘The bad man’ wasn’t to blame for where I was at even – though he was responsible for everything he was doing, I was responsible for what I did about it in my life. I was holding on to that relationship and that was the source of my pain. And I kept telling myself I couldn’t let go because I was too afraid to chance what would happen if I let go. It was a vicious circle. I wanted to believe in the disbelief of that relationship. I wanted to believe it was all true. it wasn’t. True. The relationship was a lie and in my holding onto it, I was living a lie because I could never make it true, no matter how hard I tried. It was all part of the Lie. The lie that I am not enough, never good enough, not worthy.
Because abuse hurts. And holding onto an abuser hurts.
Letting go of the pain and fear means letting go of everything that hurts me.
In surrendering, I awoke to the wonder of being enough. Just the way I am. In that very moment of awakening — Bruised and battered. Beaten down and abused — I was enough. For that moment, it was enough, that I continued to breathe. Silently. Quietly. In place. Breathe in. Breathe out. It was enough that I breathed as I began to awaken and expand into the Truth of my being. I am enough.
I am.
Enough.
In being enough, it is enough that I live this one wild and precious life fearlessly in love with all I am and the world around me.
That is enough for me.
Dare Boldly 
I can’t relate to what you have gone through exactly, Louise, so I have been lucky in that sense. But I continue to live across the road from in-laws (husband’s brother and sister-in-law) who loathe me. So hard to forgive!
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It must be very hard Julie to live so close and feel loathed — I am sorry this is the way it is for you — and am in awe of your amazing spirit and capacity to shine, even in the most difficult of circumstances.
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Such a good description of the vicious cycle that can keep us from moving to a safe and ultimately better place. I am constantly in awe and gratitude that God’s love has never been far away. It has only been I who kept turning my back to the love, and holding on to the lie that what I was choosing instead was all I could ever have. The Truth can be hard to have faith in, but it does set us free.
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So true Susan — when we turn our backs, we turn out the light within us. Hugs
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One has to live inside an abusive relationship to really understand its dynamic, and why it isn’t a simple thing to just walk away. An element of brainwashing goes on that convinces a person they don’t deserve any better, and it takes a lot of strength to break free.
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Yes Jennifer — it is the brainwashing that causes such deep damage — and why getting out is so important. To get the poison out, we have to quit taking in the poison — and that can be hard when the poison is what we believe is keeping us alive! Hugs.
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I can relate to this. Something I have never written about in my own blog, as there was an illness with him behind the behaviour. However, illness or no illness, it is hard to accept a loved one turn on you and eventually abandon you – after the care and loyalty given to them. So there is the conflicting emotions of carer and victim scrambling about together.
I understand that the only real cure is to cut off all ties which is the same as ‘getting out’ but very hard considering the long history and the connections with the children……
Still it is a better place than where I was
thanks
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That is always the challenge Elizabeth when there are shared children — I was fortunate. He was not the father of my daughters and thus, there was no need for future contact.
I think — when we can unhook the emotional charges — we can be in their presence without the fear of being triggered. Always challenging.
I am glad you are in a better place than where you were! You are so beautifully courageous.
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“When the pain of what we are living becomes greater than our fear of changing, we let go. When our fear of drowning swamps our fear of holding onto nothing, we start to swim”.
Are these your words, as I wanted to use them as a quote in one of my blogs? Are you OK with that?
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Hi Elizabeth, I’m not sure I replied. My apologies! Yes they are my words nd I would be honored to have them used by you in your blog — or anywhere! 🙂
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Because abuse hurts. And holding onto an abuser hurts.
Letting go of the pain and fear means letting go of everything that hurts me.
In surrendering, I awoke to the wonder of being enough. Just the way I am. In that very moment of awakening — Bruised and battered. Beaten down and abused — I was enough.
*************************************************************************************************************Wow!
I had recently been in touch with my abuser. It’s a long complicated story. An interruption in my life.
Your line… Letting go of the pain and fear means letting go of everything that hurts me…. Hit me like a mack truck!!!!!
My abuser came back to ask for forgiveness. I gave it to him. Unexpectedly. I had a whole other script waiting for him for most of my adult life. Opening that door to him has been freeing (to take back that insecure young girl and hand back an empowered woman) and yet an interruption in my life to kind of beat a dead horse. Once into our reconnection… he said “Maybe someday you will really forgive me.”
I never really GOT that until I read that above sentence about letting go of everything that hurts me! Wow.
You see… I have carried everything about that relationship with me ever since. It has been my baggage, it has housed my anger. I think I am finally ready to let go. Of everything. The contact… the need for him to validate me… and forgive myself for allowing it to happen at all… for me to stay and take it. And to finally put it away and live in the present!
Can one little sentence really make that much difference?
It was like a key to a broken lock.
Thank you.
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You make my heart sing Di. I think that sometimes, our readiness to hear something is present because of all we’ve heard in the past that brought us to this moment, right now, when what we hear resonates in deep and profound ways. I am so grateful my words have brought you such comfort and freedom! Thank you my friend.
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