I received a phone call today from one of my partners that I’m developing a weight release product with. She had me on a call last Tuesday to share my hiking experience that I also shared here in the Trail to Change post.

There I shared the entire experience and some of my own story about overcoming a deep loathing for my body and learning to cherish and love it these past years.

It was the first time I shared any portion of my story with several strangers NOT in written form where I could censor and filter and feel safely tucked away behind the page.

Today I received my first taste of what this is all really about. Yes, it’s about my healing and what I can accomplish through embracing these new and daunting experiences and squeezing every ounce of awakening from them…

But all that paled in comparison to what graced my ears today:

“One of the women on our call phoned me today,” my partner began. “She visited the Statue of Liberty this week and as she stood at the base of the monument, she looked up at the 354 stairs and thought to herself, ‘No way. I can’t do it. Not this.’ Yet somehow she began to climb, though with each new step she questioned whether she could go on.

“She said it was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. But you know what Jaime?”

“What?” I asked, hoping against hope for what she would say next.

“She made it to the top, and because she thought of you and your story every step of the way.”

There Were No Words…

I can’t form words around the welling in my heart when I heard that.

Working through my current healing process has brought me into an uncanny synchronicity in my life where I will experience something and then within a couple days, have to read or write about it (I am a ghost writer on some self-help projects and such).

For instance, today I had to write a lesson for a weight release course on “Releasing Our Victim Story.” Though it somewhat escaped me at the time, this past Sunday I had an experience that allowed me to tell my victim story, acknowledge it, and begin to disconnect and let it go.

It also helped me acknowledge that I have more than one victim story! Ugh…

All the World in a Grain of Sand

A new friend of mine invited me out to Santa Barbara for the day, to enjoy some time at the beach and then hike up to a mountain peak where he had spread his dog’s ashes. I happily agreed, figuring it would be a fun day. I had no idea what I was in for (that’s becoming a theme with me, isn’t it?) and, as has been usual with my life experiences of late, a huge lesson and healing awaited me in the dust and dirt of that mountain trail.

When we reached the base of the trail, I had a minor panic attack.