Week 8: The Impossible Life: Weekly Reflections on Faith, Pain, and Triumph

Week 8: The Power of the Present Moment

By Elizabeth M. Ford

Facing the Shadows

As we spoke last week about my mother, it reminded me how easily we can replay painful moments in our minds every single day if we let ourselves. Some memories are so loud they can interrupt a quiet room. Some flashbacks are so powerful they can steal the air right out of your lungs.

So how do we move past them? How did I? This is a question I am asked a lot.

I will be honest. There was no simple path. There was no magical breakthrough. But there was a moment. A line in the sand when I knew I could not keep living inside my past anymore.

A Memory That Shook Me

One evening, my ex-husband and I were in another fight. By that point in the day, he had consumed around 24 beers. Drinking was something he often did from the time he opened his eyes in the morning until the moment he passed out at night.

We were standing in the foyer of our townhome. It started with him yelling at me for something wrong he felt I had done. It always did. But then, without warning, he grabbed me by the neck, where I had instant pain from his hand and fingers digging into me, and told me, “This is what you want me to do.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to look at his face, so full of hate, red blood shot eyes, and anger, until he felt he had done enough that night.

A year or so later, there was a Super Bowl commercial on speaking against domestic violence. Screaming and sounds of pain filled the television. Something about it, maybe the voice or the timing, took me right back to that moment in our foyer.

I could see his bloodshot eyes. I could see the twist of his face, distorted by rage. I could feel his hand again and I could hear the yelling and crying.

And I started to shake right there on the sofa by myself.

My First Steps Back to Myself

In that moment of panic, I realized something. I had no control.

But I wanted to find it again.

I started grounding myself. I looked around the room and named the things I could see. The couch. The carpet. My foot. My hands. I spoke out loud as I kept my eyes open to look around.

I held my own hand to replace the memory with a new, non-painful sensation. That simple act became a small light in the darkness.

I cried a lot that night. And I made a decision. I did not want to live like this anymore.

Rewriting the Pattern

Each time a memory would creep up, I would say it out loud. I would acknowledge it. I would stop letting it sneak up on me and instead meet it face-to-face.

Then I would return to my here and now.

I would remind myself of the room I was in. The safety surrounding me. The peace in the moment of where ever I happen to be at.

Even the act of holding my own hand began to soothe me. It showed me that I could be a comfort to myself.

This Week’s Truth: It’s Okay to Feel Safe Now

You do not have to keep reliving what happened to you.

You do not have to keep punishing yourself with memories that no longer match your reality.

It is okay to feel safe. It is okay to not feel bad anymore.

It is okay to cry. And it is okay not to.

It is okay to breathe in peace and know that peace is yours.

Overcomer Challenge

1. The next time you feel a memory pulling you back, stop and name five things around you. Speak them out loud.

2. Put your hand on your chest or hold your own hand. Say, “I am safe now.”

3. Write a letter to your past self, letting her know she made it through.

Final Words

You are not required to stay in sadness to prove what you survived.

You are allowed to feel joy.

You are allowed to feel peace.

You are allowed to finally, completely, feel safe.

Until next week,

Elizabeth M. Ford

Wounded but healing. Shaken but unshaken. Living in the now.