Yesterday’s post was interesting to write. Kind of hard and kind of not.
I find there are parts of me that are really, really, REALLY still angry about my experience in gymnastics. Like really angry. Choices I made (or didn’t), places I stayed too long, environments that just didn’t feel good but I didn’t know how to speak up about.
Part of me has thought this anger hasn’t been okay to share, that I shouldn’t share it, and that I should just “let it go” — after all, it was a long time ago that I was in gymnastics.
Yet another part of me knows that there can be a sort of sacred aspect of allowing feelings of anger to pass through. Maybe I have to let the anger take its course and burn through me, and then I can rise anew from the ashes, that there will be beauty that may not be able to come without anger’s cleansing and clearing out.
I also know: If I don’t allow the anger to burn through me, it will burn me up, and it may burn others around me.
So I’m going to sit here and let it burn through me.
And another thought: Perhaps the only way ever to get to the other side of healing and health is to sit through the pain, through the burning. Trying to go around won’t get you there. You need to go through.