#15 How Healing Works

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7/11/07
Today was spent in luxury at the Peninsula, one of the world's leading hotels. It is now nearly 10pm as I lie in the hotel robe after a nice long bath, staring at the Bangkok skyline as seen from my bed on the 32nd floor. The lamp lights in the room are dimmed and I am listening to relaxation music and the sound of Billy's breathing as he lie fast asleep at my side.

I am reading over my travel journals from my time in Bagon when I feel that lump in my chest pushing its way up to my throat. It doesn't take long for the tears to follow.

I try to push back the shaking and sobs so as not to wake up Billy, thus revealing the sadness that surfaces without invitation or mercy.

I do not want to be, or appear to be stuck in its grip.
I do not want it to cripple me or others.
I do not want it to create guilt, or judgment, or shame, or permanence.
But the more I try to swallow it, the harder it pushes to the surface.

IS THIS HOW HEALING WORKS?

I am missing the completeness of my family; missing my grandma and my mom.
I want to read them my journals, and send them postcards about my experiences, adventures and learning. I want to buy them a souvenir and make a surprise phone call from some remote location on the other side of the world. I don't want to feel the piercing sting of their absence with every journal entry, sent postcard and unbought souvenir.

It doesn't take long until the shaking of the bed and the choked sobs wake up Billy.
He puts his arm around me and wipes away my tears with his hand. He nestles my face into his shoulder and allows me release.

This is how healing works.

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