A friend asked me, “What if I don’t heal all of my trauma wounds? What if I never get to the bottom of my seemingly endless trauma well?”
I answered, “Doesn’t matter. Just make sure you have a good time.”
It's very easy to get caught in getting to the end of the trauma--just wanting the work to be DONE. I catch myself there, too.
But.
Create a space to meet yourself regularly, yes. Lovingly tend your darkness, yes. This tending does matter a great deal. Obviously, I value this work very deeply.
What I’m saying is, though, do not make your life a monument to your darkness and pain.
What I’m saying is, do not wait to love yourself, to love life, until you are all-the-way healed. There is no way to know how long that will take.
What I am saying is: Practice and meet yourself, yes...and live your fucking ass off, too.
Make your life a monument to beauty. Now. Today.
Go get yourself a ridiculously expensive new lipstick.
Book an overnight Air B&B at a beautiful place in the next city over.
Or hell–book a flight to dine with a beloved friend and fly right back. 18-hour trips are fun!
Or if, like me right this sec, you’re barely solvent, there’s plenty of beautiful free shit available.
Put on some makeup you already have.
Dance to your favorite song. Up the ante and record yourself and watch it back after.
Draw a bath. Put fragrant oil in it. And if, like me right this sec you don’t have fragrant oil, toss in some olive oil. Go wild and add milk to it, too. This is true luxury.
Find a comedian special on Netflix and laugh.
Go outside.
Browse at a bookstore.
What I’m saying is, put yourself in the way of as much beauty as you possibly can muster, as best you can, like your life depends on it.
Because what I’m saying is: Pleasure–not addictive behavior but genuine pleasure–heals trauma and pain, too. A lot. Living well does, too. And so does beauty.
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