Healing in community.
Initially, I thought that I was simply coming down from a stimulating social event after the heaviest part of winter ending. Still, I did not push what I was feeling away and wrote a poem about grief in the hopes of making sense of its arrival.
I also had an impromptu chat with one of the other Room Project members—Cherise Morris—about healing in community. She’s working on a collective creation that explores healing as a spiritual and collaborative practice for Black women seeking to include and transcend their trauma and the trauma of their ancestors.
Come Sunday, I realized that the grief I was feeling wasn’t going anywhere. I reflected on this during my aptly timed, monthly craniosacral therapy and sauna session at Meta Physica Wellness Center.
I had initially sought out this type of bodywork to help me with processing anger. And while I know that grief can follow anger, I wasn’t sure why this particular feeling was happening now.
Then, early yesterday afternoon all the pieces fell into place.
The grief I was—and still am—feeling is a sign that I have found true belonging in the places and spaces and communities that I am now apart of. The grief my body has been waiting to feel could only arrive when there was enough support around it for grief to flow.
Healing, as I am learning, is a collective act. When we focus on healing our communities we, in turn, get to heal and vice versa. We get to make reparations that can only happen through the work of many hands and hearts.
Sunday afternoon, I attended the non-fiction memoir workshop that Room Project is currently hosting. I shared a new chapter of the book I’m working on.
During the feedback session, someone mentioned that they were unsure what the narrator—me—wants out of telling this story. I admitted that I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew my fellow writers understood.
Before we wrapped up, I asked if what I’m writing sounds self-indulgent. One of my peers—Adrienne Goloda—said that it sounds like I’m really in the process of trying to make sense of things. Casey Rocheteau—the instructor—pointed out that Charles Bukowski probably never asked himself this and that I should just keep writing.
Which is what I’m going to do. And I’m going to keep seeking out the support I need—from both qualified professionals as well as from peers—to grieve the loss, trauma, and change that I previously could not fully process on my own.
So, how does community contribute to your healing process?