Last year, my daughters and I did the Asungate trek in Peru, which took us to 17,000 ft. (5,200 meters). Laying in my tent at 15,000 feet, under a full moon, I felt more at home than I would have felt in my own bed.
Motion is my art form. Movement is the thing that calls me forward, my highest expression of creation. For me, movement is an act of devotion, a celebration of this precious and unique gift of living. In movement, I connect with my creator.
My form of movement wouldn’t be considered dancing, thought on a macro level, in my mind’s eye, it looks very much like a magnificently choreographed ballet, an interpretive dance that truly reflects the height, depth and breadth of my soul.
For me, this art of movement takes the form of mountain biking… fast. It manifests in sailboat racing, daily runs along the cliffs overlooking Lake Superior, swimming across lakes or far out into the ocean, cross country skiing, climbing volcanoes and trekking as high and as far as my body will go. But most of all, my passion for movement is what calls me to travel.
When I was in my early 20’s, I used to say that I had a deathly fear of white picket fences. I used to think of it as a fear of boredom. When talking to friends about this fear, I used to jokingly say, “When it comes to fight or flight, I’m a runner!”
As I got older, I realized my fear was linked to something much deeper, a sense that I was somehow unworthy of this beautiful life I’d been given; that in the ways that mattered most, I wasn’t like other people; that on some level, I simply didn’t belong here.
Travel provided context. No matter how far I went, how exotic the food, how unusual the cultures, customs, or religious practices, on a visceral level, I recognized my own soul in the faces of strangers. In some weird way, the more foreign they seemed, the more familiar they felt. The message of the Universe was clear: They are me. I am them. There is nothing to fear. I am safe.
Movement provided a feeling of connectedness to this planet. It helped me feel grounded. Ironically, things that other people find dangerous – swimming far from shore at night, sleeping alone in the woods, climbing volcanoes, hiking to altitudes in excess of 20,000 feet, spending a month sleeping alone on a beach in Costa Rica, traveling alone in Latin America – make me feel peaceful. This world, everyone and everything in it, become mine. This planet belongs to me and I belong to it. Movement continues to provide the connection I deeply crave.
Many of us have a sacred wound, something that plays an integral, formative role in the shaping of our lives. There is a part of us that is hurt, broken, sad, abandoned, and exhausted, longing to be fed, nurtured, and loved. It’s the part of us that cries out to be seen, recognized and accepted. It is our deepest source of power.
For some people, these sacred wounds are rooted in trauma, often pertaining to early childhood experiences and relationships. For others, they are tied to physical or emotional violence, loss of a loved one or a major health challenge.
I had a beautiful childhood and managed to skate through this lifetime with no significant trauma, with the notable exception of a divorce. So it wasn’t until very recently that a trusted healer (and my ayahuasca ceremony) helped me recognize that my sense of disconnectedness was linked to an ancestral wound. The pain wasn’t mine. It was something that had been gifted to me by ancestors who were unable to process their trauma in their own lifetime.
In their negative expressions, our sacred wounds are rooted in our infernal need for validation. This includes our need to achieve, to be viewed as successful, to be more, do more and have more. I was guilty of using personal achievement, as well as the achievements of my husband and children, to wrap layer upon layer around my sacred wound, so nobody would ever see it. Unfortunately, achievement and validation don’t heal our sacred wounds; they hide them.
Our sacred wounds need to be identified, accepted and loved in order to access the transformative power they offer. In their positive expressions, our sacred wounds provide spiritual nutrients, fertilizer needed for growth and self-discovery. In the lifelong journey of healing these wounds, we restore parts of our soul that have become fragmented or lost. I think of my global travels as a worldwide treasure hunt to find these missing pieces. My sacred wound provides rich, bountiful travel experiences, dripping with adventure and wild, sensual freedom. But it all started with discovering my sacred wound and connecting with it.
Picture a precious, innocent child, hiding under the bed. You love this child with all your heart and just want her to feel safe. That child is your sacred wound, and it can’t come out without your help. In the gentlest, tenderest, most loving voice you can access, ask yourself what part of you is trying to stay hidden. If you don’t get an answer, visualize yourself crawling under the bed with a blanket to wrap the around the child, allowing her to feel safe and protected. There is no pressure, only love. Your sacred wound will make itself known in your perfect timing.
If the child comes out from under the bed, offering to reveal your sacred wound, embrace her and love her, no matter what she reveals. Shock, revulsion, guilt, shame and pain are normal responses. Allow yourself to sit with these feelings, rather than pushing them away. Ask the child how this wound might be healed in a way that unleashes great power in your life and restores your natural state of playfulness, adventure, joy, empathy and love. Recognize the fact that this is not a single step process. Healing occurs on multiple levels throughout your lifetime. In time, the daily practice of healing will become one of your greatest, most satisfying joys.
There is no greater work, no calling that is higher than that of nurturing and healing your sacred wound. No amount of time, money or energy is too much. This work will create your greatest contribution to this planet and everyone on it. It will bring more fulfillment than you ever imagined possible.
Your friends and loved ones need this authentic version of yourself. The world needs this authentic version of yourself. Most of all, you need this authentic version of yourself. I wish you the very best on your spiritual journey!
