This morning I woke to my 9 month old Weimaraner, Millie, front paws on my chest our noses tip to tip. If she could speak I’m certain she was saying, “I’m sick of being inside. Walk me NOW.”
The dogs have been neglected these past few days because I’ve had meetings and other obligations. But this morning offered a bit of time so we set out for a walk. Rather, a walk-pull. She wants to run (not jog, and not run like a human…but with cheetah like speed RUN) and it creates a good arm workout to keep her leash in place so that Bailey, our 12 year old lab, can keep up.
Finally, we got to our spot. It’s a ditch that cuts between the neighborhood towards a golf course. There is a pathway along the ditch that is mowed and on either side the grass is at least 3 feet high. A neighbor told me about this spot and it has been a blessing ever since. I let them off their leash and they get to run at whatever speed they choose. Imagine that…they get to be what they were created to be! Dogs.
I was only a few yards into the pathway when the sky opened up and unleashed plump raindrops. For a split second I thought about taking cover. I looked to the side where beyond the fence of grass were trees that offered a decent amount of coverage. Two steps in I froze. Snakes hide in tall grass.
That was it. I was going to get wet and there was nothing I could do about it. Let it rain, Lord. Immediately, a correlation came to mind. Yesterday I conversed with a survivor after she listened to the Debbie Chavez interview I had done on Monday.
(Survivor) “It’s been a hard few weeks, heck a few years, but listening to the interview hit so many things in my life. I’m speechless. I’m sitting here crying like a baby.”
(Me) Let it out…tears bring healing.
(Survivor) “I don’t cry and I haven’t stopped since the interview started. I don’t want this pain anymore.”
(Me) To get past through the pain you have to let it out which means to feel it, to cry.
The rain pelted my face, soaked in my hair and shirt, and I didn’t melt. What was I so concerned about getting wet? Wouldn’t I dry? Couldn’t I change clothes? I was right to worry more about the snake in the high grass than to let a little water stop me in my tracks.
So often I work with survivors who are on the verge of talking about what happened but they stop. They are afraid. To feel the pain brings more fear because in order to survive they had to block out the feelings of what they experienced. Eventually, most survivors realize this is a pain that they no longer want to carry and they let it go. They ‘let it rain’ and the tears no longer burn as they fall but sooth as they heal.
Today I give you permission to cry. Cry and don’t stop yourself. Let it out. Let it go. Give yourself the gift of healing.