A cacophony of sounds erupts around me. People bustling about, cleaning cabins, making beds, transferring luggage to the car, all a great contrast to the ever-flowing rush of the stream that is before me. I’m in Twin Lakes, Colorado at my family’s cabins. For seven days I’ve been surrounded by my best friend’s family – her two sisters and brother, their spouses and kids. For a while we had 22 people here taking advantage of the best nature had to offer – quiet, solitude (no internet or cell service…not sure when this will be able to be posted), never-ending scenery to take our breath away around every corner. Simply amazing.

Today they are leaving and I am staying behind with my oldest, Ryan, and his girlfriend, Lauren. My husband and Seth had to leave for work and football, so I get the honor of spending a little bit more quality time with my son before he leaves the nest. One by one as each family loads up and leaves I am filled with a deep anxiety.

Can I do this alone? Yes, I have Ryan and Lauren but in their eyes (even though they are nearly 19) I am the ‘adult’. But I don’t feel ‘adult’ right now. I feel triggered and there are a thousand reasons why.

Listening to this stream, this amazing rush of water that is both powerful and quaint, I get thrown back in time to memories my brain worked so hard to keep from me. Tears rush to my eyes simply typing these words. There is definitely a love/hate relationship to these mountains. Most of my earliest abuse happened in mountains, in a camp ground just like this, with family all around and yet no one could see.

I won’t allow this to paralyze me. This is what healing is, moving beyond that memory, beyond that pain, embracing the fact that it can’t and won’t hurt me again. People who haven’t been abused don’t understand the force a memory such as this can have, how debilitating it can be. ‘Just get over it’ they think. It’s not that simple, it is a process and a journey. The healing journey that takes an inner strength that most non-survivors will ever embrace.

Part Two – The next day

I had to stop writing in order to be present to my son. God had blessed us with a glorious bright day that lifted my mood and helped me push forward. That is the key when tethered by a triggering memory…keep straining against it’s chain to break apart from it…you can do this by focusing on the blessings around you.

That night I did two things I had never done before. I grilled chicken breasts (I’ve always had my husband to grill) and let me pat my own back by saying they were juicy and delectable! 😉 And I built my first ever campfire. I had watched the men do it over the course of the week knowing I’d be alone and would want a fire. I wasn’t about to tell anyone that I had never done it before! Again, I had always had someone else who knew what they were doing do it for me. It took some work but I did it! Like a baby who first learns to walk I was so stinking proud of myself.

The fire pit where I made my first fire.

Ryan and Lauren came out to roast S’mores (they had been washing dishes while I did the fire) and enjoyed the fire for a bit and went back inside the cabin. I was left alone to marvel at my first ever fire. I looked up at and took in the brilliant star encrusted sky and realized I could do this. I can be here, be alone, and enjoy it.

Like that baby with the first steps, I got back up and tried again. Our healing yoga instructor for Hopeful Hearts, Lynn Feder, often uses that as an example. That little children can fall down and get right back up. Some might falter, some might set off a little cry, but they all try again. Somewhere in our growth we embrace trepidation and set our ability to succeed on other people and things rather than recognizing where our true strength and ability lies… within us.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Phil 4:13

I give my children, my marriage, my ministry over to the Lord for His will, I accept whatever is to come, I trust He will take care of it all, and yet with my own life I falter. I allow that worry to set in and the anxiety to threaten my growth forward.

No more. I awoke to the rush of the stream and found peace rather than anxiety.

I am blessed with the ability to be here, to have this solitude to regroup. I will make the most of it and move forward.

My quiet place where I wrote this blog.

Blessings

Shannon

Check out Shannon’s memoirs EXPOSED and REDEEMED on Amazon!

 

 

 

 

A few bonus pictures of the quietest place on earth.