This afternoon I finished reading What’s in Your Web: Stories of Fascial Freedom by Phil Tavolacci and started and finished Tapping In: A Step-by-Step Guide to Activating Your Healing Resources by Laurel Parnell. And whereas it may sound like a big deal to start and finish an entire book in one day, I mostly skimmed it. Not that it wasn’t full of good information. It’s just that the meaty stuff, the technique for using bilateral stimulation to calm yourself and “lock in” positive and beneficial states of being, was up front; the rest of the book was about how to use that technique in, oh, seventy-five different scenarios.

I’ve talked a lot about EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) lately, thus my interest in bilateral stimulation. And whereas Tapping In is different from EMDR, it’s based on the same idea. That by gently stimulating your body in a back and forth (left, right, left, right) fashion, you somehow encourage your brain to process trauma, self-soothe, and achieve peak performance. In it’s most basic form, Tapping In looks like tapping your feet right-left-right, using your hands to do the same thing on your thighs, or crossing your arms and using your hands to tap your chest or shoulders. This can be done without a topic in mind, and, according to the book, some people say it works because it reminds our bodies of centuries of tribal drumming or just simply being rocked and soothed by our mothers. Others claim it works because it connects both sides of the brain by “crossing the midline.”

With a topic in mind, Tapping In can be used when you’re nervous or recalling or anticipating a stressful or traumatic event. In this case, you’re basically acting like your own mother. There, there, Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s over. However, the book recommends saving the “major stuff” for your (EMDR) therapist and instead using the tapping technique to make your positive memories “stick” and your best states of being last longer. For example, you could recall a time when you felt on top of the world, or safe, or in love, and then, once you really felt that all over your body, go to tapping. Thus “locking in” that positive feeling and bringing your past fully into the present.

One of my takeaways from from Tapping In was the idea that we all have an entire host of inner resources that are always available to us. For example, my dreams and daydreams are often full of strong animals or even celebrities. And it’s not that these characters with all their power and abilities are out there, in a book or on a movie screen. Rather, they are in here, inside of me. Waiting to be tapped into, waiting to help, waiting to save the day. They say that when you first begin therapy you imagine that your therapist is some sort of superhero. Perhaps this is true. Hell, I created a blog about mine (sort of). But they also say that eventually you realize your therapist is just another flawed human being. Also true. Sooner or later you conclude that all the magical powers you ascribed to your therapist actually reside in you.

Oh, I’m the strong one. I’m the badass. I’m the one who knows how to solve my problems.

Something I’ve been grateful for lately are all the people in my life who’ve supported me throughout my healing journey. The people with whom it would not have been or continue to be possible. Because what they say is true. People harm us, but they also heal us. This has been my experience. For all the crap that some people have directly or indirectly brought into my life (sometimes on a silver platter), an equal amount of healing has been brought to me by others–my therapist, my EMDR therapist, my myofascial release therapist, my upper cervical care doctor, my regular doctor(s). And yes, I know I have a lot of therapists and doctors. It takes a damn village.

Additionally, I’ve been supported sometimes vocally and sometimes non-vocally by my family, friends, and a host of acquaintances and strangers who have witnessed my journey through this blog. And whereas I’m grateful for all my professional and non-professional help, I’d like to point out that those who help you heal and those who support your healing are, often, not the ones you expect to or wish would. Indeed, many times when I’ve wanted the support of specific people, I’ve gotten crickets. And yet support has always come from somewhere, from someone. More and more I believe we get what we need from whom we need it. Having been held and cared for by total strangers while crying and falling apart (and at the same time coming back together), I’ve come to believe that this kind of care is the most profound anyway. Because it says, “I haven’t known you forever, but I’m here for you in this moment. If only for a moment, I’m willing to walk with you and be a cocoon for your metamorphosis. I’m willing to accept and love you as you are.”

Caroline Myss talks about something called a sacred wound, a pain or suffering that cuts so deep that it has the power to not only set you on the path of true healing, but also at the the same time launch your personal transformation. And whereas this may sound lovely, it sucks. Why? Because someone has to deliver the wound, and if you’re not careful you could spend the rest of your life hating that person (or persons). More and more I believe life is like a giant drama in which we all play many–necessary–parts. Meaning that sometimes we’re the wounded, sometimes we’re the wound-er. (This is an ugly job, but someone’s got to do it. Where would Jesus be without Judas?) Likewise, sometimes we’re the healer, sometimes we’re the healed. Deep down, there’s a peace about all this, a knowing that all parts must be played. A knowing that all parts are sacred.