Healing Has No Timeline

Hello Beautiful Peeps,

Thank you for taking the time to read this newsletter.  I’ve got some exciting news.  My website www.ibogajourney.ca has been rebirthed.  It has been a long time coming and it was time to make this shift. I am really excited about this transformation and I hope you like it too.  If you need an amazing website person, I recommend Brent and his email is: brentst@me.com

This newsletter is an invitation to soften, feel and trust the enfolding.

Lately, I’ve been moving through some profound layers of self-reflection and inner healing.  And something has become increasingly clear to me.

Healing is not a destination. There is no finish line.  And there is certainly no timeline for when we should be “over” something.

Even after all the years of psychedelic medicine work, shamanic practices, coaching, and personal exploration, I still find myself meeting aspects of myself that I thought I should have moved beyond by now.

And there it is.

That little voice.

I should be past this.

I should know better.

Haven’t I done enough work on this already?

I’ve come to recognize that these very thoughts are part of what is asking for my attention.

One of the beautiful teachings of the shamanic path is that life itself becomes our teacher.  Our relationships, our reactions, our discomfort, and the moments when something someone says or does impacts us more deeply than we might expect.

These moments can be invitations.

Invitations to become curious about what is still alive within us.

Rather than focusing solely on what another person has said or done, I’ve been learning to turn my attention inward and ask:

What is happening inside of  me right now?

Why did that affect me so deeply?

What part of me is asking to be seen, felt, or understood?

Recently, during a pattern/belief session with Ginny, I explored some painful experiences from my childhood, including physical punishment and sexual abuse.

These are experiences I have consciously known about for many years.

Yet when I was invited to connect with what those experiences may have felt like for me as a little girl, I encountered something unexpected.

Numbness.

There was very little sensation.

Very little emotional connection.

I knew what had happened, but accessing the feelings associated with those experiences was incredibly difficult.

It took time, patience, and a willingness to remain present without forcing anything.

And this brought forward a powerful realization.

Knowing our story is not the same as having had the opportunity to feel and process its impact.

As children, we may not have had the safety, support, or capacity to process what we were experiencing.  Numbness and disconnection can become intelligent ways of protecting ourselves when something is simply too overwhelming.

And those protective patterns can follow us into adulthood.

For me, I’ve been exploring how those early experiences may have contributed to a deep fear of making mistakes, fear of punishment, and even a difficulty feeling completely safe and comfortable in my own body.

Patterns that have influenced how I move through life, how I relate to others, and how I relate to myself.

And yet, here I am, all these years later, still discovering.

Not because I have failed to heal.

But because healing continues to unfold.

This is something I want to share with anyone who has walked the path of psychedelics and or other forms of deep inner exploration.

These experiences can open extraordinary doors to awareness, insight, and transformation.

But they are not necessarily a one-and-done experience.

An insight is not always the completion of a healing process.

Sometimes the medicine reveals something, and it is through our everyday lives, our relationships, our triggers, and our willingness to feel that we begin to integrate what has been shown to us.

Sometimes we take two steps forward and one step back.

Sometimes we revisit something we thought we had already healed.

And sometimes we discover that beneath a familiar pattern is another layer we simply weren’t ready or able to meet before.

I believe there is wisdom in the timing of our unfolding.

Our nervous systems have their own capacity and pace.  We cannot force ourselves into feeling something simply because our minds believe we should be ready.

There is deep trust required in this process.

Trust that what is ready to be seen will reveal itself.

Trust that we can meet ourselves with compassion rather than criticism.

And trust that we don’t need to rush or way through healing to become worthy of experiencing the fullness of life.

I’ve also been paying closer attention to the words I speak to myself.

The impatience.

The judgement.

The expectations.

The belief that I should somehow be further along.

And I wonder how often these very voices are protecting us from something much more tender underneath.

Grief.

Fear.

Shame.

Guilt.

The pain of not having felt safe, loved, or protected when we needed it most.

Perhaps the invitation isn’t to push harder or dig deeper.

Perhaps it is simply to soften.

To become curious.

To create enough safety within ourselves that the parts of us that have remained hidden no longer need to work so hard to protect us.

Because on the other side of these protective patterns, there may be greater capacity for intimacy, connection, joy, love, and the simple beauty of being alive.

One of my greatest teachers on my own path has been noticing my reactions.

Not judging them.

Not making myself wrong for having them.

But recognizing that they may be pointing toward something within me that deserves my loving attention.

For more reflections, images and experiences from Africa, you’re welcome to visit Iboga Journey on Instagram.

@IbogaJourney

And if you feel inspired to give, there is a beautiful farming community in Cameroon rebuilding after a devastating bush fire.  Any support is deeply appreciated, Basse

https://gofund.me/37a1be3d