Christy Botkin Reeves

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Lost pieces of soul have a way of gathering inside the shaky, empty, numb, and tender places of our embodied experience. This is their home, the temple where they dwell as they await reunion.

The dissociated ones of psyche and soma find a place in the forest to wait, where they long to return when conditions are ripe. It is love that is the ripening, alchemical substance.

In their attempt to come home, they appear as feeling, sensitivity, achiness, and exhaustion. Not to harm or take us down, but somehow, this time, to be held.

It’s so natural to want to turn from these ones, to send them away, to transform, transmute, cure, or even heal them. In the wake of this, they are abandoned once again and left alone to fend for themselves.

It was vital to be able to turn at an earlier time in our lives, to house the lost ones outside our conscious awareness, in limbic pathways and bodily circuitry, as an early form of self-compassion.

As a little one, with a ripening nervous system and tender heart, we weren’t able to metabolize the survival-level anxiety and annihilatory sense of panic that a conscious, embodied relationship would require.

But here we are, longing to feel alive, connected with inner and outer nature, and to fully participate in the mystery of this world and this human heart.

Inside the hollow core the lost ones await. Hidden inside the dark places, buried in the psyche and the body are the dissociated ones, carrying life energy and filled with data and information. What appears to be scary, unworkable, and valueless is gold in disguise.

Yes, it will feel counter-instinctual to go to them, listen to them, and hold them with our mercy and understanding, to provide what wasn’t available at an earlier time.

It is sure to feel shaky, scary, and unfamiliar. But this is the path of love and there are helpers and guides inside and all around us.

We offer a temple of liberation to the lost ones not only for ourselves, but for the culture and the collective, and also for the ancestors and those yet to come. It is then able to find its way through the thick density of intergenerational trauma and trance and out into the neural circuity of the world.