February 12, 2019.
9:40 AM. Spain, in bed.
“Lessons by Sinead Harnett”
It’s funny, because you’ll think you’re good, fine and then all of a sudden be crying tears for feelings you didn’t realize you had on a Tuesday morning.
I’m learning that healing is such a process. There is no one-and-done here.
I didn’t realize I was holding on to so much pain or resentment. I thought I was over it. But maybe someone like me is never over anything.
Either way, I know where it exists in my body now. Funny enough, it feels situated right below my heart. Almost as if it was masking it and by letting myself weep, I dislodged the chains that were wrapped around my heart. I have two items there now. My heart and this big, convoluted ball of love, hurt, disappointment, bitterness, resentment and insecurity.
My insecurities have been popping up everywhere lately. I’ve tried to ignore them, to mask them and I was doing a pretty okay job of it until that song came on.
These aren’t just romantic hurts, I think sometimes friends can and do hurt just as bad - family too.
I wouldn’t call myself a healer but I do know the first step is at least acknowledging the hurt. That there’s something there that needs acknowledgement, attention, some extra care. I don’t say “fixing” because I don’t want to get into a posture of absolutes. I don’t want to project anything other than an understanding that this is work that lasts a lifetime should you commit to it. There will be sentiments and scary things about yourself and your life that will demand reintegration and they will often pop up at the most inconvenient times. Feeling them is going to hurt. Deep down in your gut will be this pain you want to ignore but have to deal with because if you don’t Gabrielle, it will eat you alive.
But guess what, that pain doesn’t have to be so strong so long. And contrary to popular belief, ignoring it will not cause it to move.
I sat in my bed that morning knowing I needed to be working on some pitch decks and instead wept. I wept and wrote this letter to myself that I’m now sharing with you and started to feel open and free in places I didn’t realize I had closed off. I won’t lie to you and say I’m not afraid.
Afraid of my dark side. Afraid of pain I’ve buried so deep it encased my heart and lodged itself underneath it once acknowledged instead of simply dissipating.
I’m afraid of my insecurities. Afraid of acting from places rooted in them. Afraid of what they themselves are rooted in.
I’m afraid of the work. I wanted to be done working on myself.
I thought I was done working on myself.
This is the side of the sun no one tells you about. Well, until now.
It’s like I’m being asked to rise and meet myself. Asked to integrate all the lessons and walk forward anew. Asked to call it in instead of sending it away. Asked to get back in touch with my faith.
This is the self-love that’s not face masks and manicures. This right here is everything.
My destiny is to know myself and the world around me well. To then share that knowing through my outputs. But one precedes, or at least exists in tandem with the other.
What needs to be dislodged in you? What’s encased your heart that you maybe didn’t even know was there?
What would it look like if you moved through the world with radical faith?
P.S. That cry and this subsequent writing, was the most productive I’ve felt in weeks.
sending you so much love,