11 Feb What I wish my Dad had Done (and some freebies-scroll to the end)

Yesterday, I was thinking about what I wish my Dad had done in a childhood incident that scarred me.

​

This thought came to me as I reflected on some deep, healing work I have been doing in the trainings and workshops I have attended in the last few weeks.

​

In a meditation that I had done a few years ago, the guide had us take control in a situation where we felt uncomfortable as a child or were put in a compromising position or abused and had us push the perpetrator away, maybe, in my case, lock the door, to have a redo of a ‘wrong do.’

I think that was important, and for me, it helped to have power in a place where I felt powerless, but it didn’t help to make the situation feel that much better.

​

This past weekend, I attended a workshop where we were guided to ask our bodies if we wanted to participate in various somatic exercises.

​

I was shocked to hear what sounded like a desperate, tired, pleading child saying inside of me, “No, no, no, please, no.”

​

It was not loud or angry but sounded more worried, worn out, and weepy. I knew the voice. It felt like a young part of me, almost begging for mercy. It was moving to sense this tender young side of me voice her needs.

​

I honoured the voice and didn’t proceed with the movements. Instead, I interacted with this quiet voice, asking myself if I could do something else and if that felt okay with this tender, obviously overlooked part of me.

​

As I drove home from the workshop, my pelvic pain was amped up.

​

I sensed fear like my pain was a result of a deep-seated fear that the workshop exercise had brought up in me: fear of being harmed, fear of something being forced on me, fear of not being listened to, fear of not being seen, fear of not being honoured, fear of not being protected.

​

The voice felt like the age I was when my mom first got ill. My dad woke me up to tell me his wife was dying. I am sick of the story and being so impacted by it.

​

I told my husband how my dad could have handled that situation to protect me. I’ve written about it many times and done deep work around it, but nothing loosens its grip on me very much.

​

Yesterday, I meditated with the intention of attending to those younger parts of me that had shown up a couple of days before, pleading with me not to participate in the exercise in the workshop.

​

I wanted to understand them and why they had been so activated by showing up in more acute pain than I’d felt in a long time. The physical pain felt so much like intense fear in my body. In my meditation, I focused on my pain, asked my body to let me know what it needed, and quietly waited as I noticed different sensations.

​

At one point in the meditation, unexpectedly, I saw myself very clearly coming out of my childhood bedroom as a little girl and my dad tenderly waiting to meet me and say good morning. It felt obvious that my mom wasn’t there.

​

He took me by the hand and led me to our living room couch, pulled me onto his lap and told me my mom had gotten sick in the night.

​

He must have noticed the look on my face because he stopped himself and said, “It’s okay to be scared, Leona.” I started crying, and he comforted me before continuing. He stroked my face, and when I was done crying, he said that she would be in the hospital for a while, that she would be okay, and that we could visit her when we wanted.

​

I started to cry again. He held me and kept reminding me, “It’s okay to be scared, Leona; I’m here with you now.”

​

He said he would be with us and that we could play. My siblings came into the living room, and he sat behind me. Every time I looked over my shoulder, he looked at me and smiled at me reassuringly. I felt safe, loved, and protected.

​

This was not the Dad I had. This was the version of my Dad that I needed.

My Dad, my sister (on his lap), and me.

By allowing myself to be with this imagery in my meditation, I felt something deeply wounded in me start to recalibrate and heal. The unparented and unprotected part of me repatterned in a more healthy way.

​

I feel different today. Something has shifted.

​

This might seem bizarre, but studies show that by having these moments, where we can connect deeply to visual imagery, we can allow our brains to be repatterned and positively change how we interact with memories.

​

This may have you wondering what all this parts talk is about. It’s a psychological modality called Internal Family Systems that is steeped in decades of research and can be a very impactful way to navigate many challenging situations. I’ve trained in this modality and seen such powerful results in my clients and me. More info is here if you’re curious. https://ifs-institute.com/, and if you want to connect to see if something like this might be helpful for you, set up a 20-minute conversation here: https://calendly.com/devillepartners/meeting-20-minute.

​
​

If you’re curious about meditating in a simple way that will help you connect more deeply to your intuition, please join our next session of the Womb, a place for women to relax, restore, and reset using mindfulness practices and journaling techniques.

No previous experience is required (you could come to nap if you wanted to :)) Register here for our next session on Feb 28, 2025 @ 01:00 PM MT: https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/Ff-yKXl5SpyyraqcCf1BlQ

​
And more freebies that you or someone you know might benefit from: Join the Journey Back to Joy program
A year-long program where you can learn simple ways to connect to more joy in your life with weekly emails filled with joyful suggestions, journaling prompts and meditations www.leonadevinne.com/journey​

​

Thank you for being on this journey with me~

​

Love,

Leona