Burn That Ishhh!

PSA to all my Queens: We are lighting sh*t on fire. 
Keep reading.

I’ve done a lot of writing and advertising for Shhheba mentioning “liberation” and “declaration.” Some of you may be left wondering as to what that means. My hope is that File_004what you read here can help us all as women heal and maximize our potential while raising our vibrations and creating extraordinary lives for ourselves! So, today I’m going to let you in on something that I like to do to help my healing process. In other words, when I hurt or experience trauma I seek out ways to liberate myself from my pain. I declare that my pain will no longer have a stronghold in my life.

Everyone heals differently. In my own experience I’ve found that no matter how long it takes to get there it all adds up to one singular moment in time. It may be brief, and you may not even notice it. At one point or another we all make a conscious decision to heal and move on. Whether it is a trauma, heartbreak, death of a loved one or otherwise, a spark ignites inside us. It may be so obvious as that you stopped crying, binge watching Netflix, and laying around in bed all day. Or maybe you decided you would get dressed up and go out with the girls on a Friday night. Maybe you decided to put some of their old things away, decided to love and celebrate their memory instead of memorializing their death. Maybe you took the suggestion your therapist or counselor gave that you fought kicking and screaming! Either way, someday, we move on and we heal.

There is something powerful and intimate about making a choice to heal yourself and move on with your life. It shows great courage and self-love. Why? Because essentially you are declaring, “I don’t deserve this sh*t.” That’s right, and you don’t! You don’t deserve to be hurt, traumatized, abandoned, or suffering. The pain may be inevitable, but the suffering is always optional! Below, I’m going to show you a great ritual I use for letting go of wounds old and new.

Step 1: Write a Letter
(stay with me here…)

I can hear the groaning already. Now I know what you’re thinking, “Shhheba, every one and their mother tells me to write a f*cking letter.” WELL. Many people suggest letter writing as a way to get out your thoughts on paper, yada yada yada. Yes, you’ve heard that all before, so I’m not going to bore you to death. Let me tell you why I do it. I’m the kind of person that will play out what I’m feeling in my head over and over again. When I write File_003these letters, I put all the intimate details on paper. All the curse words, all the details that make me cringe, all the emotions and words left unsaid. I am my audience, and I want all the grimy details so I can scrape them all the way out of my life. F*ck all the poetry, write what you feel. All that nasty, icky, angry stuff you want to get rid of: write it all down. This is the issue I’ve had with people that have told me to write letters. I hear all this poetic stuff, and that’s great. One problem: My pain is not poetic. Your pain is not poetic. I’m not here on this earth to make a monument out of my struggles with a ribbon-cutting ceremony to top it off and neither are you. I’m here to love, celebrate, be wild, be free, change the world, and whatever else I decide I want to do with my life and SO ARE YOU.

So, write the letter. Write about what you’re letting go of. Tell your story. Use the F word and talk about how XYZ was a total P.I.T.A. Be vulnerable on that piece of paper. Own your pain for just a little longer so you have the power to remove it. I wrote my letter today because I had a trauma that needed to be healed because as time goes on I’m still learning and 40 or 50 years from now I’ll still be learning! I cringed at some of the things I wrote on that 5-page letter (don’t be shocked, all my readers know how long-winded I am). But it felt good. It felt good to tell my story and be honest with myself. I didn’t rationalize, and I didn’t leave out anything. I took a few breaks when I needed to, but I got it done. I took the power away from what happened to me by giving that power back to myself. Claim your power today, Queen. It is YOURS for the taking.

 

Step 2: Read Your Letter — OUT LOUD

Screw the neighbors, like really. I do a lot of ritual etc. in my backyard, and I can only imagine what my neighbors must think of me. Ha! As of now they are still very friendly! Add emphasis where you want it. You can be loud or soft, but what is important about this step is that you do not allow your environment to dictate how you do so. You are your audience. Last time I checked, there is no step in here that says, “Neighbors Are Invited — Cater to Others.” So, forget them! If the tears flow or you feel angry this is your time to let them flow freely. You’ve been holding this in for so long, and now that you’re ready to let go: Don’t Hold Back. 

 

Step 3: Burn That Ishhh!

As a mystic woman I love to light things on fire. I love it. It’s great, and I have ZERO shame. Burn, baby, burn! DISCO INFERNO! — Anyway, back to what I was saying. Lighting things on fire. So, by the time you get to this step your letter is all written, and you’ve read your letter out loud like a BOSS. What I did is I put something that I associated
with this trauma under my letter to burn with it. I have a fire pit in the backyard that I got from Home Depot for maybe around $40.00. You can find ones for cheaper OR get a bowl, or go to a safe place where you can burn it. Make sure you have water etc. on hand just in case. We want to get rid of the pain today… not create more. Say a prayer to yourself or out loud. Invite your ancestors and angels to come into this space with you to assist you in your healing. Then, light ‘err up!

I really wish I had remembered to go out to the store and get marshmallows, because s’mores are the sh*t, and this is probably the best fire to make them over. Really think about it. You’ve just taken a huge weight off your spirit and healed yourself like the bad-ass Goddess that you are. You deserve s’mores.

 

 

Go out, celebrate, and treat yourself!

Love,

Shhheba

 

 

 

 

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