As I was driving to the beach yesterday morning, I came across a license plate that said: Aloha brings change. While, Aloha is often translated as a greeting of hello or goodbye – it stems far beyond. It encompasses love, affection, peace, compassion, and mercy. The phrase served as a remembrance of a pleasant memory.
A couple of months after the 2016 breakup, I spoke about, I found myself in Oahu. I remember that as soon as I landed, though I was tired, I felt an instant and deep connection to the land. Rather than heading to check into my hotel, I put all my stuff in the trunk of my rental car and headed straight to Diamond Head. I parked and I didn’t stop until I got to the the top. In that peak, I felt as if my pain had washed away. Hawaii holds a special place in my heart.
There’s a forgiveness practice in Hawaii that truly rings deeply within me. Ho‘oponopono: “I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you, I love you.” I think of this prayer often. It’s been deep in my heart lately.
I feel like I’m on the verge of change, of a breakthrough. Every inch of me wants to resist because somewhere in the depths of my mind change = chaos. Yet that’s not true. Change is what brought me to San Diego. Change is what allows me to work remotely. Change has brought me a lot of good even if I haven’t identified it as such. Change doesn’t have to be destabilizing. It doesn’t have to be shattering. Change happens even in the strongest of structures and foundations.
Something within me wants to be birthed, it wants to be purged, to be let out. As I moved my body through yoga poses, I felt it. There’s something within me that gets stuck here and there and there – and everywhere with every move.
I have my travel schedule for the month of October. It feels like I was able to plan it in a way that strikes a balance. Here’s to hoping.
I’ll end this by sharing a portion of the book that deeply struck a chord:
“I had come to terms with the fact that I was broken. Not in a sad or bad way, but in a it-is-what-it-is kind of way. Life happened and I adjusted accordingly. We’re all a little bit shattered. Pain and heartache come our way and with time we develop patterns that we think will protect us. But that only keeps us in fear.
There are traits in me that aren’t necessarily part of who I am, but fallouts from what I’ve seen in this lifetime. For instance, I will probably always have a huge fear of abandonment. It stems from my parents’ separation when I was two, my stepfather’s death when I was four, my mothers’ suicide attempts, and every divorce, trauma and death I’ve experienced since. As a result, I have to be mindful of what’s real and what’s fear.
I’m scared of being left out. I’m controlling – I want things to happen my way, and I often assume things are going to go wrong if I’m not in charge.
I micromanage everything. I expect people to fail me, or disappoint me, or leave me, so they often do. It has been instilled in me since I was a little girl that if I don’ do it, none of us will survive.
I don’t trust easily, and I don’t give second chances.
I’m messy. I’m emotional. I love hard and hurt over little things. I take everything personally. I want to fix everyone, even if they’re not broken.
I want the world to be whole because that means I am whole.
So much of how I feel and act is connected to the past. Part of my journey is figuring out what truly is a part of me, what brings my light out into the world, and what is baggage masquerading as personality. What is action, and what is reaction? Am I moving with love or with fear? ”
Rachel Brathen, To Love and Let Go