My maternal grandfather passed away when I was 22. I was living on the West Coast of Florida then and had this strong urge to get to the ocean as soon as I heard the news. I wasn't very close to him, nor was he a significant presence in my life, but all loss brings emotion, and I knew the water would be calming.
I vividly remember sitting on the beach and feeling in awe of the waves. I stared into the massive body of water, moving effortlessly with a power larger than almost anything I'd ever seen. It was soothing. Somehow, this uncontrollable and incredibly powerful body of water was soothing my soul.
I first discovered my love of exercise in high school. A friend invited me to an early morning step aerobics class one summer, and I was immediately hooked. I've always been a morning person, and it felt like such a great way to start the day. There's something about sweat and how it leaves my body that feels so cleansing. The release of toxins and emotions through my pores is so freeing. It's like starting each day with a blank slate full of opportunities.
I first sought help for my mental health the summer after my first year of college. I was having thoughts of self-harm, and I was scared. Driving home from a friend's house, I examined each tree I passed, asking whether it was the right size not to kill me but severely injure me if I crashed into it. I didn't want to die, but I was looking for something to alter the path that I was on and be a catalyst for change in my life. The thoughts scared me, and I went to my Dad in tears, asking for help. He immediately called a colleague in Butler University's Counseling Services Center, and I had an appointment with a counselor a few days later.
I spent probably 90% of those first few counseling sessions just crying. I will forever be grateful to my counselor for providing the space to cry. There was no pressure or expectation of talking. I remember him saying his job was to give me a safe space for whatever I needed that space to be, and at least early on, I just needed a space to cry.
The ocean. Sweat. Tears. Each has served as a healing balm in different seasons of my life. The vast ocean has shown me the beauty of surrendering to forces beyond my control. Sweat has reminded me of my strength, a physical release that resets my mind and body. Tears, though sometimes seen as a sign of weakness, have been a powerful way to cleanse my soul and fully embrace my emotions.
What brings you peace? Life's waves, like the ocean, can be unpredictable, but by allowing ourselves to feel and process, we can find a calm within the storm. Know that healing comes in many forms—and there's no one "right" way to navigate it. Trust in the elements, trust in yourself, and trust in the process.
Journey well, my friends.
Stevie