It Takes Guts

I wrote this after my Advanced training in CranioSacral Therapy last July. Every morning for 5 days, we shared in a circle setting and spent the afternoon and evening in sessions. There were 2 groups of five and we did some very intense work, growing, healing, learning and expanding. The following was written after one particular session I had.


There they are.
On the floor.
My guts.
Just a pile of unrecognizable parts.
Laying there with no shape or form.|
I can’t believe I just did that. 


Sitting in shock by the words that just poured from my mouth, I begin to see there are other people in the room. Once permission was given, and the time allowed, all of it came spewing from me and onto the floor. Looking up from the guts with tear filled eyes to all the faces around the circle, terrified by what I might see, yet each face looking at my guts had such compassion, no judgement, just compassion. Their eyes met mine, as tears poured down my face. There were moments that I felt hysterical and overwrought with grief, but each person sat there with me, holding space, as I emoted all the pain of loss. 


“Thank you for sharing. You’ve been through a lot. Lyme disease is very difficult to heal from.” Again, the tears and snot pour from my face. 


Feeling seen and acknowledged changes everything in that moment for me. Seeing and feeling the compassion pouring out of every soul in the room gives me the ability to see my heart, become aware of the pain and to allow it to be there. Holding my heart in my hand and seeing the guts on the floor makes me realize that I am exactly where I need to be.


The circle discussion comes to a close, everyone having shared a piece of their heart. The woman next to me reaches over and touches my arm, “You are so brave and I can see your strength. Thank you so much for sharing like you did.” A sheepish smile comes across my face and another tear slips out. She hugs me.


It’s my turn to get on the table. I look up to see 4 women standing at my feet, their eyes soft with love and their hearts full of compassion. Each one settles in next to me and places her hands on a pertinent place that has carried pain for an extended period of time. I close my eyes and the ride begins.


“What’s happening for you right now, Patra?”


I can’t seem to catch my breath. I’m gasping and pointing to the place on my chest where the air can’t reach. She places her hand there.


“Right here?” 


I nod, “Right there.” 


I feel my body begin to purge something. Deep sobs are coming from my mouth and the pain is deep in my lungs. It’s moving upward and the pain is increasing. The hands remain, reminding me that I am not alone in this struggle.


“We are right here,” she whispers into my ear. 


I gasp for breath and wail in pain, screaming, “Oh my God this hurts so bad!”.


In my mind, I can see the pain pushing through my chest wall. The muscles are inflamed and between the fibers I can see gray and yellow pus mixed with blood pushing through. The physical pain is overwhelming, it stung. The emotion of grief stings like infection pushing out of a deep wound. I never experienced anything like this before. My arms begin to burn and I’m gasping for air while wailing with grief. 


Things begin to settle and I can finally breathe again.


“What do you need in this moment, Patra?”


“I need my mom to hold me,” I say through whimpering tears.


I feel four sets of arms wrap themselves around me, tightly, lovingly and with the greatest compassion. My sobs work their way out through the arms of love. Soon our breath combines into one and the release is felt.


Each set of arms lifts gently off my body, and an imprint is left behind. Their presence in that moment leaves an indelible imprint that will always be felt. I open my eyes, again, looking at the four women standing at my feet, realizing now they are angles of love sent by God to heal me. I sit up, feeling different, seeing different and now knowing I am forever changed. At this point, there is no looking back. Nothing to see there. I stand up, leaving my guts on the floor, allowing them to return back to the earth. I leave what I don’t need and take what I do. I am new. I am healed. Time to begin again.

5 Comments Add yours

  1. Seleste Midgett says:

    Thanks for sharing this Patra. The journey of healing is an on going one from what I am learning to understand. YEHOVAH keep you as you move forward 😘


    1. Thank you, Seleste. <3

  2. Kris says:

    Beautiful Patra ❤️ Love and miss you 😘

    1. Love you too!

  3. Erin says:

    Poetry of healing, beautiful. Being so raw is a gif of love from deep inside. ♥️♥️♥️🙏♥️♥️♥️

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