Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [84]
When you stay too long in a place where you do not belong, patterns of pain become etched in your mind. Rhonda had stayed much too long with John. And it had taken her much too long to find the strength, discipline, and courage she needed to get herself together. Discipline comes from doing the very thing you keep praying for the discipline to do. I stood still in the shower and let the soothing, cleansing water wash away the nine years Rhonda had spent in and out of stupidity with John. She had done it. Left him. Refused to speak to him. Refused to be abused or self-abusive. Her friend Ruth had taken her in. Her friend Roseanne helped her with the kids. Her friends Linda and Lorraine supported her and each other, held on to each other, and cried together as things got increasingly better. In the end, it was working two jobs that proved to Rhonda that she could take care of herself and her children.
Taking the soap in my hands, I gently massaged away the years of abuse and neglect Rhonda had experienced at the hands of so many people, including herself. I made a nice lather over the fear, avoidance, and denial. I turned the water up full blast and washed away the suds. Ugliness and unworthiness went down the drain. When I felt clean all over, I started dancing and singing in the shower. “Sometimes I feel like a motherless child …” “Momma said there’d be days like this …” “I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me …” “You’ve got to give a little, take a little …” “Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me around …” “I am woman, hear me roar!”
“It sounds like you’re having a good time.” My husband peeked over the top of the shower door. “Are you taking calls?”
“Who’s that calling on my phone?” It was a jingle I had made up to the tune of “Who’s that knocking at my door.”
“It’s Karen.” Fear shot through my body like a torpedo.
“No. Tell her I’m in the shower,” I whispered.
“I told her that.”
“So tell her again. Tell her I’ll call her back.”
There are some things that black-walnut soap and hot water cannot wash away. With Karen, I had stayed too long in a relationship where I did not feel nurtured, comforted, or supported. It had reinforced the patterns of feeling worthless and helpless. Somehow, I had allowed myself to believe that I was a victim. I had told myself that I was powerless to stop people who overstepped their boundaries in my life. I thought about Rhonda’s next three years. Years of loneliness. Years of isolation. Years when she wasn’t sure, but she kept on moving. Years when she wore a hard shell to cover her bruised and battered soul. Years of working, not working, looking for work, not finding work. Three long years of insecurity and instability. I lathered myself up again and let the water wash those years away.
Then it hit me. Some people don’t know how, and others never think about going back and cleaning up their crap. Most people want to start today and feel better tomorrow. They want to take a yoga class, listen to a meditation tape, rub a crystal on their head, and believe they have fixed their lives and healed their souls. You cannot create a new way of being in one day. You must take your time remembering, cleaning up, and gaining strength. If you push yourself too fast, before gaining the strength you need to go in a new direction, you are going to fall and bump your head. I was not ready to talk to Karen. I had not yet figured out why I had stayed so long in a relationship that did not nurture me. And I still had to figure out why I was afraid to fire her. In order to do that, I needed to remember what happened to Rhonda when she got strong and moved forward into new challenges. How we deal with new challenges is always a reflection of how well we have healed.
I had the urge to take a nap. Don’t go to sleep on the job. Rest, do not sleep. I would rest in my prayer room. It was