Caverns of My Bones
Faith is a hard thing for me. It requires letting go of too much. It requires trust. I used up all of my brave a long time ago, so faith is just going to have to take a backseat for a minute while I sit with my feelings and process some shit.
I have a lot of trauma stored in this body—a lot of feelings too. Sometimes I forget how deep the caverns of ache reach. I forget that they continue into my marrow and sometimes my bones just need to cry. That’s what today has been for. It’s been for holding my bones during the ache. It’s been that odd, still day without wind. The branches of the willow just hanging there… weeping. It is odd to be a willow without movement. Without drawing things in and wanting to wrap around them. To occupy the space of just letting go. It is odd when energy is just still. It makes me fear the storm.
This full moon in Cancer coupled with Venus Retrograde has me working through a lot right now. Mama moon has shown me aspects of my shadow that I am still needing to integrate. Cancer has left me feeling vulnerable and raw for the last three days—contemplating all that it means to be unwell during this time. And Venus Retrograde always knows how to sucker punch me in the heart. “It’s time to release old patterns in relationships,” she whispers. And I look around at my relationships feeling like I am doing okay, excited that this time the lesson might be met with ease. Cancer causes tears to fall from my eyes and pool in my hands, Mama Moon shines brighter and I look down and see my own reflection. Venus whispers again, “This. This is the relationship.”
Yesterday I hopped onto an Instagram Live video sharing how proud I was at running one of the longest distances I have at one time and saying that I was tired of believing things about myself that were not true. I was tired of internalizing the mantra of “I am not…” Today I am working up the courage to share another part of me and acknowledge that I have been at war with myself for nearly 25 years. And while I may be in a period of ceasefire, there is still structural damage. My insides can still feel like a warzone. Sometimes I still find I need to tiptoe to avoid landmines.
On my quest for balance and health, I am being asked to dig through the rubble. I’ve been working with a holistic health practitioner to address overall wellness, but in doing that I am having to come to terms with my past. For 25 years I have had an eating disorder, I have been unwell… and this past week I have learned that in my unwell state, I caused damage to my body. Today, the caverns of ache that are reaching into my marrow are carrying these tears. Tears of heartbreak for all the versions of me that did not know how to love myself.
As I rested today, I dreamt that my 11 year old self sat down with me and shared her heartache. She shared a plan of how to make the hurt go away, and that the me in this space gave her the permission to act on it as she needed—reassuring her that every other version of herself would find a way to help her heal. I want to hold the little girl me in my arms and love her with the ferocity I know I can.
Over the past year I have started referring to my eating disorder (E.D.) as Eddie. When I notice I am getting too obsessive about fasting, or exercising, or not fasting or exercising, I will talk to my partner and say, “Eddie is having a hard time not being in control, it’s time to give her a different job.” So, the relationship that I am healing this Venus Retrograde is with Eddie. She’s getting new rules and boundaries, centered around selflove. Eddie, needs to make sure I take my thyroid medication each day and that I drink enough water. Eddie is in charge of me telling people I care for them and communicating my needs. Eddie is going to tend to the sacred caverns of my bones; not as a punishment, but as a witness.
Here is another thing I am not. I am not at war with myself anymore. I am a safe space. I will gather up the last of my brave and put faith and trust in myself, knowing this to be true.
