by Guest Contributor, Eryn Johnson: Queer Breathwork Facilitator, Energy Worker, Writer

I used to approach healing like a checklist - complete with to-do items and grades. 

Once I started to understand all the things that were “wrong” with me (abandonment issues, fear of secretly being a very bad person, bottomless pit needing constant love, inability to set boundaries or say no, always shaping myself towards who I thought other people wanted me to be, the list goes on), it seemed simple: I would just take each of my “issues,” use each of my practices on it, and move on to the next once that was done. 

Morning practice: breathwork or Reiki followed by yoga, reading a spiritual book, journaling, and a short meditation at my altar.

Evening practice: yoga and journaling before bed.  

I believe these practices are powerful and I adore them. But my entire approach was rooted in a flawed paradigm of needing to fix myself, and healing can’t only be about structured practice. I want to be changed, I want to be made more myself, I want to be made more me outside of the practice. 

At some point, I found myself leaning into structured practice at the expense of being brave and taking action I needed to take in my life: setting the boundary. Having the conversation. Ending the relationship. Being deeply present. Letting transformation move through me. 

I was forcing a beach ball down with both hands (thanks to a brilliant human in one of my HOLY reclamation groups for this language), and when I finally got brave enough to stop forcing it, my understanding of healing and spirituality changed drastically. Now, I know I heal by living, by becoming more alive, by being present with my body and heart for my life. 

I heal by showing up for the greatest invitations of my life - to transform, to soften, to feel, to open, to be brave. By paying attention, by noticing, by coming alive through deeper connection to self, to others, to earth, to what is right here. 

I no longer think healing is about going up and out, about transcending this soft flesh. For me, it’s about rooting down and in. It’s about being here and not leaving, and when I do leave it’s about knowing I’ll always come back. It's about seeing with clear eyes and being brave enough to do something about what I see. It’s not about fixing my basically bad and wrong self. It’s about moving away from that paradigm completely and seeing myself with more honest eyes – seeing my full spectrum, my humanity, all the shades of gray that reside between right and wrong, good and bad. 

Healing used to take place in the yoga studio, in front of my altar, during my morning practice. I’m grateful for the practices and spaces that have given me tools and skills that have supported my healing, supported me being more alive, but I’ve found the actual healing comes when I get up and engage with my life, with myself, with the person I am when I’m scared, hurting, alone.

I’m changed by what I do in my breathwork practice, in ritual, on my meditation cushion but it’s really about how I integrate it, how I let the change move through me and how I let it change how I live. How I become more of myself.

I heal to become more alive, to root deeper into this human experience on Earth – to taste the oranges, to see the colors, to feel the soft fluffy spring leaves in my hands, to hold the tender feelings of the person in front of me, to grieve, to laugh. I don't want to miss any of it. I was asleep for so long and now I’m awake, and I want to experience everything that’s here - even when it’s uncomfortable. 

I heal in moments of slowing down enough to breathe in the flowers I encounter on my walk to the grocery store. I heal when I look into my partner’s eyes and cry because I love them so much and I love this great, great love. I heal when I dance naked under the full moon in the middle of the forest. I heal when I take care of my sweet cat, when I tell the truth about who I am, when I ask for what I need, when I listen, when I open, when I let myself fall apart, when I see, when I’m able to see the people I love, when I let pain move me to action. 

I crack myself open, I become more of my whole, beautiful, full, inherently good self without believing I need to be perfect to be worthy of love. 

Healing is much more process oriented for me these days, not destination (or checklist) oriented. I am more connected to healing relationally than ever - by being honest, vulnerable, and sharing my heart. By showing up for the work of creating real, deep, honest relationship as people who both bring our trauma to the relationship.

I heal in therapy. In quiet moments. In nature. By engaging my curiosity, my creativity, by playing, by listening to myself, holding my fear’s hand and taking it along for the ride. By writing and telling stories, by claiming that this happened and it matters enough to share it. 

Restedness is an intrinsic part of this. If I can’t rest, I can’t hear myself. If I am always moving with urgency, I can’t notice and soften into the magic that is all around me. If I can’t rest, I can’t be awake. And if I can’t be awake, I can’t pay attention, I can’t come alive. 

That’s my purpose, I’ve come to believe. To be fully alive, to fully experience being human. 

I dreamed once that I knew I was dying, and in my dream I knew that I wasn’t going to disappear. I knew my soul would go on, but I was still devastated. I cried over and over again specifically for the loss of my body and all of the sensations and experiences of being human I would miss.

I woke up from the dream more convinced than ever: to be here, to be alive, to taste my whole life, is what I’m here to do. And whatever I need to do, whatever healing I need to let unfold and step into, to allow that to happen is the work of my life.

Eryn Johnson (she/they) is a queer breathwork facilitator, energy worker, and writer based in Philadelphia. They write to remember, to heal, to process. Her poetry explores the impacts of religious trauma and cisheteropatriarchy, telling stories of survival and of becoming. You can find them on Instagram @erynj_

Explore the poetry collection, moon sign

For resourcing, access Eryn’s Religious Trauma Workbook here

Tune in to Eryn’s religious trauma meditation album here