Late in my sophomore year in high school I started getting horrible, huge acne cysts on my face that left permanent, deep scars. I went from one of the cuter boys to one of the uglier just like that. I felt very vulnerable, so I stared into the mirror and told myself over and over “You are ugly”. I was trying to toughen myself . This got all the way in because it was actually done with loving intent – I didn’t want anyone to be able to hurt me. And I was so sure it needed to be done. That it was the only way to protect myself. But it actually destroyed me. I’m not alone. We attack and belittle ourselves. We tell ourselves stories about how unattractive we are, or stupid, or lazy or whatever. And it really hurts. This pain is real and it cripples us. We can’t start to heal until we stop this violence within.
After this mirrors terrified me. And for good reason! Looking in them hurt. All I saw in that mirror was someone so ugly no one could possibly love. And yet sometimes I turn and face my fears. One day I stopped running. It was hard but I was tired of the pain. I found myself at that rustic Wall workshop staring at myself in a big bathroom mirror. It was all I could do to just stand there and look. I’d heard about an exercise where you look at a mirror and say to yourself, “I love you”. But I wasn’t anywhere ready for that, it was all I could do to just stand there. Simply staring at myself felt like a victory of sorts. It was an excellent start. I was starting to do my work.
On the final day of the workshop we were asked to walk into the woods with our simple lunch and reflect alone on some questions. I sat on a log next to a river eating slowly. I just love being in nature. It had been raining gently on and off all day, and I started to notice the dewdrops on all the bare branches around me. All these many little buds of water were reflecting light. I looked into one and saw my miniature reflection – and suddenly realized I was literally surrounded by mirrors. Everywhere I looked I saw mirrors, and I felt so connected to all of these reflections. It was a golden, even a spiritual moment for me. On my slow, steady but joyful walk back to the main cabin I stopped to see myself in all the puddles and beads of water along the way. And it changed me. In some ways it wasn’t much of change – I was still the same person as ever, but in some ways it was profound. An instructor who saw me several years later after I had gone through all of this work said, “You look more comfortable in your skin”. I love that description; I think it describes it nicely.
Non violence starts with ourselves. Too often we are really cruel to ourselves. We cannot heal the violence without until we deal with the violence within. And this cannot be forced. People are ready to do their work when they are ready for it. It does not help to push them along, in fact it often makes things worse. Certainly it is important to help guide people, but we must always respect and honor their internal knowing. They know what is best for themselves at any given moment. They are the ones doing the healing, not us. We merely are helping them find their way. We must meet people where they are, and invite (not push) them forward toward what they truly want for their lives. It has to come from within. Unfortunately this is not yet universally recognized in the world of healers. There are groups that still think that at times you need to really challenge people. I understand that temptation because sometimes I feel it strongly myself. But it is ultimately a false path. True change has to come from within. We cannot force it.
And there has to be trust. All parts of us need to know that it is safe. A Hakomi practitioner works skillfully with the many parts of us. The initial sessions quite often are about letting the client realize how truly safe they are. And that lets the process go to the very deep places where quite often we find the need to have a conversation between our hurt child and our adult. The therapist facilitates this conversation – it is oddly kind of like couples therapy. Both parts need to hear from the other and be reassured that they are loved. Both need to learn how to better listen to the other. And there are more parts in us than just the child and the adult. Coaxing them out into the open is exquisite, delicate work and even the slightest hint of forcing can shut the whole process down.
HAI works the same way. Hai welcomes and loves us just as we are. HAI workshops are a safe place for people to really show up fully. HAI facilitators model loving, compassionate connection from the very beginning of a workshop. It turns out that quite often the biggest work people have to do is to stop the violence within. Stop the hurtful commentary that many of us having running all the time without even really realizing it. We have so many war zones within us, no wonder the world has so many war zones without. When we call a cease fire within we create the space to find out what is going on with ourselves. Without this ceasefire we need to keep things secret from ourselves lest we use that as fresh reason to beat on ourselves yet some more. So we actually have an internal conspiracy to not let ourselves know. But we do need to know. Healing doesn’t work unless we get to the deeper Truth. So first we have to make it safe. Then, and only then, can we get to our deeper truth. That is the next step.