A Teaching:
On my ninth day of silence, I went into meditation one evening on the beach as the sun was going down and I didn’t stand up again until after midnight. I remember thinking, “This is it, Liz.” I said to my mind, “This is your chance. Show me everything that is causing you sorrow. Let me see all of it. Don’t hold anything back.” One by one, the thoughts and memories of sadness raised their hands, stood up to identify themselves. I looked at each thought, at each unit of sorrow, and I acknowledged its existence and felt (without trying to protect myself from it) its horrible pain. And then I would tell that sorrow, “It’s OK. I love you. I accept you. Come into my heart now. It’s over.” I would actually feel the sorrow (as if it were a living thing) enter my heart (as if it were an actual room). Then I would say, “Next?” and the next bit of grief would surface. I would regard it, experience it, bless it, and invite it into my heart, too. I did this with every sorrowful thought I’d ever had — reaching back into years of memory — until nothing was left.
Then I said to my mind, “Show me your anger now.” One by one, my life’s every incident of anger rose and made itself known. Every injustice, every betrayal, every loss, every rage. I saw them all, one by one, and I acknowledged their existence. I felt each piece of anger completely, as if it were happening for the first time, and then I would say, “Come into my heart now. You can rest there. It’s safe now. It’s over. I love you.” This went on for hours, and I swung between these mighty poles of opposite feelings — experiencing a total coolness, as the anger entered my heart as if through a door, laid itself down, curled up against its brothers and gave up fighting.
Then came the most difficult part. “Show me your shame,” I asked my mind. Dear God, the horrors that I saw then. A pitiful parade of all my failings, my lies, my selfishness, jealousy, arrogance. I didn’t blink from any of it, though. “Show me your worst,” I said. When I tried to invite these units of shame into my heart, they each hesitated at the door, saying, “No — you don’t want me in there . . . don’t you know what I did?” and I would say, “I do want you. Even you. I do. Even you are welcome here. It’s OK. You are forgiven. You are part of me. You can rest now. It’s over.”
Elizabeth Gilbert- Eat, Pray, Love
A Truth:
An instructor in the IFS Therapy course I’m taking read that passage from Eat, Pray, Love to the group. It simply, beautifully, and perfectly exemplifies how to work with the parts of us that cause us pain. And it shows how important and vital it is to love and embrace all our parts.
The biggest challenge I’ve faced in finding liberation and peace is forgiving and loving myself. All my shame. All my resentment. All my rage. All of me.
Unburdening the fearful, resentful, and shameful parts of us is not easy. I wish it were, but it’s not. At least it hasn’t been for me. And it has not been a once-and-done procedure for me either. The shamed parts of me will resurface every now and then almost as if to make sure they’re still welcome in my heart. To be reassured that I’ve got them. That I still love them.
But once you extend love and acceptance to those parts, they know you (your higher Self) is there. It takes time and repetition but eventually, these fragile parts show up with less intensity and more trust in You.
A Take-away:
If we really want to find inner peace, love, and joy and live in that state (at least most of the time), this is the path we must take. We have to acknowledge and embrace the parts of us that are hurting. We must bring these wounded parts to the light of our inner Selves and allow them to release the burdens they’ve carried for so long.
Seek a therapist trained in IFS Therapy. It’s incredibly hard (if not impossible) to do this work on your own. You can read more about IFS here. You can also check out the IFS Facebook page for a list of providers and join their private community group.
