It is the Intention Bath. I haven’t taken one yet but this healing Shaman woman just advised me to take one. (For complete accuracy she told me to make an intention and take a fucking bath. An epsom salt bath.)

Apparently I’ve got some healing to do.

Apparently healing work is part of the writing process. This might sound normal to some people but because I’ve got my shit together it didn’t occur to me that my writing process would include healing work.

I’ve heard people say that writing is a healing process in itself and I shake my head yes in understanding of how it must be for THOSE people. Yes, THOSE people need to be healed and that makes perfect sense. But I don’t need to be healed. I’ve got my shit together. I’m a survivor. I made it through all the bad stuff, feel no shame and I’m just fine. I have a loving and supportive marriage. Personally and professionally I am grounded, aware and fulfilled. So, there it is, I don’t need to do any healing work. I’m all good.

Except that lately I’ve felt a shift. It’s happened recently as the unraveling of the stories have started spilling out on the page.This morning it was evident when two big tears rolled down my cheeks and I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat as I was writing. Shit. I’m not fine.

Then I had the hit.
I believe that one of the reasons I got pregnant when I did (besides Alex just really wanting to be born) was because I was meant to marry Carlos and the Universe knew that I wasn’t going to marry him on my own will at that time in my life. Back in 2000, I would have told you that I was too young to get married and settle down. I had just arrived in Puerto Vallarta and my ‘plan’ was to stay for a couple of months and then work my way through Mexico and into Central America. I was on a yearlong adventure and getting married and having a baby was NOT part of that plan. Yet soon after I found out I was pregnant I surrendered and allowed God to work the magic through me. I was quick to find the gratitude in how it all came to be even as traumatic as it was.

I now realize that the book is part of the healing process plan. Not mine of course. God knows that I would not sign up for healing on my own because, well, as noted above – I’m all good.

But here I am feeling the shards of my brokenness inside. I surrender.

I will write through the healing process. I will heal through the writing process.

They are connected. And as I write I will experience some yuk. I will experience some stuff that needs healing. So the mystical Shaman lady says that when that happens I can run an epsom salt bath and make an intention to release all of the yuk as I sink into it. After 10-15 minutes I am to stand up and let it all go through the drain and into the earth. That will become part of my healing process.

There will be more. I know this. I don’t know exactly what my healing process will look like but I imagine there might be energy work, massages, and probably Reiki healing. There might be crying sessions and body memories.

I will honor the healing and allow it the space to be instead of stuffing it down or painting it a pretty pink color that I can wrap with a bow and show off.

My little girl deserves to be whole, respected and honored. She deserves to be healed. She is part of me. She is part of the story, part of the writing and part of the healing process. To release is to heal.

It is my intention to release that which doesn’t serve me. And now I know I can do that with an Intention Bath.
Thank you God! You’re so frickin’ clever.