Trusting the Process

These words used to bring me back to my OG days at Soul Cycle; however, I prefer to hear them more, working up a sweat and doing a double tap back as opposed to being in the throws of marriage turmoil.

Very similar–this too shall pass; yet you never want to hear these statements when you need to listen to them the most.

But with every doubtful, fearful, self-sabotaging thought swirling through my head in Milan and my phone losing battery faster than my marriage, the Hoffman process popped into my mind. It was the only purchase I made in Milan, and for a shopping lover like me, this had a much deeper meaning. It’s easy to drown yourself in loss, and I knew I needed to venture into an entirely new perspective shift.

The extensive pre-course work, the week-long process, and the post work are equivalent to over 1 year of therapy, and since my New York mindset always likes having things finished yesterday, I was willing to surrender fully.

Upon arrival at the process of being stripped of all my devices, a combination of dread, fear, and resistance came flooding in like small tidal waves rippling at the shoreline. I made my final call to my girlfriends as I sat on the toilet, scared; the waves were only getting bigger.  There’s no turning back now…

The week was a complete mental workout of surgically removing negative patterns.  It was taking ownership of my wrongdoings and mistakes (it takes two to get married and takes two to dissolve it) and putting a stop to blaming others for my own shit.  Each day came with new hope, more peace, and less anger.

Hoffman enabled more self-awareness and allowed me to touch into the truest and highest part of myself – acceptance.

While Hoffman didn’t save my relationship, it saved me, protected my happiness, and brought me back to the person I finally wanted to look at in the mirror again. Blaming others is not part of the recipe for the pursuit of happiness.

Those seven days were paramount and laid the foundation for going through a divorce with less resentment and anger, to let go and remove. There was no battling, no vindictiveness, no eye for an eye, and I no longer blamed my ex for my own pitfalls. I was able to let go, move on, and shed the dead skin of my marriage.

If I hadn’t gone through the process–let myself die, and reawaken again–I would have gotten lost in feeling sorry for myself, playing the role of the victim. So, while I was and am still at times sad, this path led me to feeling confident and hopeful, and to being loyal to myself and not my depression–and finally to always trust the process.