Diving Deep
In working to heal from past mishaps
I choose to go back with my counselling buddy nearby
To the murky unclear depths of where the hard things started.
It is not really that she goes back with me while I dive in
More like she’s floating on the surface but aware all the time . . .
Guarding my lifeline as I grope in the deep underwater.
She steadies me up to stay in that place if I wander off.
After a while I can pretty much* stay on course and work to clean out
The muddy mess that’s been sticking to me for decades.
I cry and remember new places where that hurt got in the way
Of functioning well, of reaching out, of being my powerful self
I cry some more. Some of the hopelessness shifts.
It’s just a job we can do . . . like housework or weeding. I know
There will be more weeds to pull or dirt to clean and yet
There’s an easing from the cleaning, the weeding and the discharging.
On reflection, this intentional focussed adult use of our
Inherent humanness is in part a decision. My decision.
And in part it is a meeting of two minds . . . hers and mine.
Blessed be.
Moruya, New South Wales, Australia
* "Pretty much" means mostly.