“Healing Is Weird, Holy, and Sometimes Hilarious”

As I’ve aged, I’ve become more and more of a hippie woo-woo, “the spirits are calling me” kind of person.  As a therapist yep…pretty much the same add in talking about genitalia and nerve endings mixed with a lot of standing in your own truth and owning your own desire. 

I light candles. I pray to God. I pull tarot cards. I get readings. I listen to my gut, my body, my dreams, the weird feeling in my chest, the random song that comes on at the perfect time, and whatever invisible committee seems to be guiding me on any given Tuesday.

Basically, I have become the woman I used to politely side-eye.

And honestly? I love that for me.

Today, I did something a little different. Something that had been calling to me for a while. And because this is apparently who I am now, I followed the call. I don’t do things just because they make sense on paper anymore. I do things because something in me says, “Go there.” I say things because I feel led to say them. I avoid people because their energy feels like expired milk in a hot car.  I don’t always need a full explanation. Sometimes my spirit says, “Absolutely not,” and as a therapist, I would like to say that is clinically significant data.

So yes, it was a little bizarre, even to me, when the thing I felt led to do was participate in a voodoo reading.

And before anyone clutches their pearls, please unclutch them. I am still praying to God. I am just also lighting the candle, checking the vibe, and making sure the ancestors don’t have anything they’d like to add. I contain multitudes. Some of them are licensed. Some of them are barefoot in the moonlight.

What I received in that reading was not someone telling me who I am. It was not someone telling me my future or handing me some dramatic prophecy like I was about to ride into battle on a dragon.

Although, to be clear, I am open to the dragon… or ever like a really big Opossum that would be cool.

It was more like a reaffirming.

A reminder of my values.

A reminder that I am on the path I’m supposed to be on.

A reminder to hold tight to the things I already know deep in my bones.

And as a therapist, I think this is where people get confused. Healing does not always show up in a perfectly formatted treatment plan with measurable objectives and a laminated coping skills worksheet. Sometimes healing looks like therapy. Sometimes it looks like medication. Sometimes it looks like movement, prayer, rest, boundaries, community, crying in the car, pulling a tarot card, drinking water because apparently that matters, or finally admitting, “This person’s energy makes my nervous system want to file a formal complaint.”

I believe in evidence-based practice.

I also believe your body “keeps the score”…I mean wasn’t there ever a book about that one?  Your intuition keeps receipts, and your spirit sometimes knows before your brain is done making a PowerPoint presentation about why you should ignore the red flags.

Western medicine has its place. Therapy has its place. Medication has its place. Science has its place.

And so does listening to your body when it says, “Girl, no.” or in my case “Witch, no”

That natural reaction is not always anxiety. Sometimes it is discernment wearing sweatpants.

That tightness in your chest is not always you being “too sensitive.” Sometimes it is your body saying, “We have seen this episode before and did not enjoy the ending.”

That feeling in your stomach is not always something to talk yourself out of. Sometimes it is your internal security system doing its job, and honestly, she deserves a raise…mine deserves an all expense paid vacation to an Island.

I was also reminded that not everyone dressed like an angel was sent by God. And if we remember the Bible correctly, the devil was an angel too. So yes, be careful who you love. Be careful who you let in. Be careful who gets access to the softest parts of you.  Some people come wrapped in light and still leave you bleeding.  Sometimes you handed them the knife.

I have never been more aware of my mental health than I have been in the last year… I’ve never before been this open.  Being open sounds “fucking amazing” and freeing… on the other side when people have information, people use that information, that is human nature.  It’s been the loneliest year of my life. 

You spend years learning your triggers, your patterns, your wounds, your nervous system, your coping skills, your limits, your truth — and then someone will still try to weaponize the very things you worked so hard to understand.

As a therapist, I help people name your pain, understand your patterns, regulate your nervous systems I pray, light candles, and try to manifest you to stop letting broken people hand you broken mirrors.  Because therapists are not exempt from being human.  And I see you, I love you, I welcome you into my space a safe space for healing. 

Here’s what I know now:

My sensitivity is not a flaw…. Neither is yours

My intuition is not paranoia…. Neither is yours

My healing does not have to look traditional to be real… Fly your flag in whatever freaky way you feel good.

My faith does not have to fit inside someone else’s comfort zone...Neither does yours no religious leader has ever been great by being “traditional”

And my mental health is not a weakness just because someone tried to use it as one… yours might just be your super power

So yes, I am lighting candles.

Yes, I am praying.

Yes, I am pulling cards.

Yes, I am using clinical knowledge, spiritual discernment, trauma awareness, common sense, and whatever message comes through when I shuffle the deck and one card flies across the room like it has an attitude.

Yes, I am listening to my body.

Yes, I am protecting my peace like it is a full-time job with benefits, PTO, and a 401k.

And yes, if your energy feels weird, I may lovingly, spiritually, therapeutically, and with great emotional maturity, never speak to you again.

Growth is beautiful.

Healing is weird.

Discernment is necessary.

Therapy is powerful.

Prayer still works.

The body keeps receipts.

And sometimes God, your nervous system, your ancestors, your therapist brain, and your group chat are all saying the same thing:

Pay attention, you fucking warrior and warrioresses.