I used to have this recurring dream; It would always start in a dark cellar of an old farmhouse occupied by “hills have eyes” or “wrong turn” kinda people (scary movie shit). The cellar door was guarded by a man who may or may not be taking a nap. If I could get past him, I would have to work my way up a set of creaky, old stairs and try to open a door that may or may not be locked. If it was unlocked, another guard would be waiting for me on the other side and no matter how far I made it in my dream, I would inevitably be caught and wake up.

While training to become a yoga instructor in Costa Rica, I was led through a meditation that resulted in me forgiving the boy who raped me at a high school party when I was 15. The decision to forgive was fortified by my understanding that we can only love as deeply as we have hurt. I accepted that while what happened was terrible, it’s a part of my story, and a part of why I am so hellbent on helping others heal their trauma. In that moment of acceptance, I felt my upper body lift higher than the palm trees that surrounded us. While my head and heart lifted, I could feel my hips root and ground down, creating a feeling of sturdiness and lightness at the same time.

Immediately after returning home from this incredibly emotionally difficult trip, I had my “locked in a cellar” dream one final time. I successfully made it past the guard, up the stairs, through the door and down the hallway. I instinctively knew to hide and hold my breath for exactly four seconds as someone passed through the hall. Eventually, I made it past every barrier that had previously thwarted me, and out the front door. I felt the sunshine on my face so vividly, I was sure it was real. My feet propelled me forward, as I looked back on the place that I had been stuck in for so many years. At this point in the dream, my eyes fell on a familiar face. I could tell that they too were stuck, and I yelled at them to escape with me. They said no, this was my one chance to leave this mess behind, and I couldn’t pause for anything. I turned to look back to the freedom that was in front of me, took another step and woke up.

It is natural, as humans, to get so caught up in what has happened to us. We either relive the pain of that moment continuously, or dull the screams with substances, empty relationships, work or any distraction within reach. If we can afford to, we go to therapy to talk, analyze, talk some more and continue to relive the experience.

What if we stopped living in the past? This is obviously easier said than done, but what if we could acknowledge the pain caused by a moment in time and accept it as part of the incredibly intricate adventure that is our entire life? Imagine forgiving the person who hurt you, because realistically, they were hurting too, and moving forward with love in your heart. What if that love, that’s as deep as the pain you’ve felt, allowed you to create something beautiful, something that the world desperately needs, that can only come from your unique healing journey? Or what if that beautiful thing you create is simply peace within yourself, and a small spec of kindness in an otherwise harsh world?

If you knew that your healing would add to the goodness of this world, would you stop living in the past?