Yesterday we took our youngest to the Aquarium…and I left my wheelchair in the car.
Most of healing does not happen overnight, nor in big, sudden, social-media worthy shifts.
Have I experienced what most people view as “miracles”? The sudden ability to walk for example, after a period of being unable to walk unassisted? (In my case due to severe sciatica)
Yes. I have. (There is a lot more to miracles than our human lens, we’ll get into this another time)
However, most of healing is not linear. And, what the outside world sees in some big shift such as my experience with sciatica, is not the full picture. Even in a situation like that, they don’t see the weeks, months or years worth of behind the scenes work that brought me to that place where my body was ready to make that sudden shift.
There comes a time in healing where our bodies invite us to expand.
To begin titrating between safety and what we are unsure is safe or not.
To stretch our capacity slowly and safely.
To begin to try things that once – maybe not long ago, and maybe for a long time – were impossible.
When we arrived, I already felt as though I needed the wheelchair. I was dizzy, my heart was racing and pounding hard, I felt light-headed and weak.
What I really needed was salt for my POTS symptoms.
I tuned in to my body, gave it what it needed, and knew that the wheelchair was in the parking lot if I ended up needing it.
I normalized for myself:
- checking in with my body throughout the outing
- sitting down when I needed to and taking breaks
- trading off which exhibits I participated in and to what degree
- my partner and I took turns doing the heavy lifting
And by heavy lifting I mean, which of us:
- took our child up closer for exhibits/shows
- managed the emotional/cognitive labor
- (sensory needs, the never-ending questions or chatter, bathroom breaks, behaviours, looking up the schedule for what to see next, etc.)
and when/for how long.
I allowed myself different kinds of rest, even when sitting wasn’t an option.
Ear plugs for loud spaces, sitting alone when I could, solo-bathroom breaks when able, fidgets when sitting in overstimulating areas.
And an often-under-valued way to support my body: I allowed myself to use my voice.
- when a man was rude
- when children pushed ahead of me and my child in lines
- when I was impressed by a dad soothing his son
- when I needed a few minutes of not being touched
Our voices won’t always be heard or respected, but by using them, we tell our bodies:
“I’ve got you, I hear you, I am able to voice your needs. I am listening.”
And, equally important for a day like yesterday, we model that ability for our children – which lets them know that they can, too.
Healing isn’t linear.
As a parent in a high-support needs household, possibly even less so.
No matter the circumstances there comes a point where to heal further, we need to take small risks.
And we need to remind our bodies that we are safe, while doing so.
Felt-safety is a crucial piece to not further dysregulate the system and regress.
We don’t need to do this quickly, and it’s important that we don’t do it before our system is ready.
But at some point, we have to try. Likely again, and again, and again.
Until our bodies remember: we are safe, we are whole.
Eventually comes the time to EXPAND.
Expansion requires discomfort, risk, uncertainty, and doing it anyways – safely.
Our bodies know when it is time to do this and it’s important not to rush the process. Had I attempted this on our trip to the aquarium in the spring, it likely would have triggered a regression in my healing. My body wasn’t ready.
The flip side is that if we always play it safe and never try, even when our bodies are ready to try, then we never expand. We never learn what we may be able to do now that we couldn’t before. We never recondition.
Don’t rush the process.
Tune in to your body, it knows how to heal.
Healing is not linear.
Try not to get down on yourself if you can do something one day and you can’t do it another. Sit with the sensations that arise within you and allow them to be there, exactly as they are.
Trust your body, it knows how to heal.
