I have always heard that “Yoga is my therapy” or “shopping is my therapy” or “working out is my therapy…” Well, having embarked upon the journey that seeing a therapist is, for the first time in my life (much to the dismay of those who know me) I can tell you this. Therapy is not shopping.
Therapy is a cutting away of the weeds that block my path. Yes, there are some flowers and other nice plants that need pruning and trimming so that they can flower and grow in the light of the Sun, or in my case, the Spirit. But this is clear to me now, going to be hard work, requiring sweat and much toiling in ground that has not been tended in a long time, if ever.
But in the end, Oh, yes, what a garden I will have. With clear cut pathways and little places to stop and admire the blooms and birds and…well, you see where I am going with this. And it will be a good place, not perfect and always needing maintenance to keep it in order. But it’s worth it. And most, MOST importantly, I am worthy and worth it.