I am lost, scared, and feel messed up today. It is what it is. I went browsing the Internet looking for some inspiration, some rope to pull me out of my misery of self pity, sadness, and lead me to the promised land of relief. And found nothing. I actually felt worse reading others’ inspirational stories, or seeing my friends and family on their magical trips to Hawaii and Mexico.So I began to ask myself this question: what is this promised land that I have created in my mind? It is a place where there are no problems; your kids don’t receive F’s on their spelling tests, and are not excluded by their friends. It is a place where you have a father who holds you tightly with love, acceptance and faith. Oh yeah, that cannot happen because he is dead. The promised land is a place where your family does not forget your birthday, because they are so distraught from the death of a family member. It is a place where you receive accolades and awards for seven years of sweat, tears, sleep deprivation and really hard work to write a book. The promised land is a place where you don’t feel shitty about your existence as a human being.Okay I know this place does not exist. I know in all actuality the promised land is life. Except today I am having a really hard time accepting that these life situations that we all encounter, in one way or another, are what we were put on this planet to face. I am struggling with accepting that each day is about finding the light, beauty, and joy in the small things. Or embracing the fact that being present can pull me out of my darkness. No, I don’t really want to do that today. I kind of want to wallow in my misery and bring anyone along on my ride. I want others to struggle with me, and I don’t want to be positive, happy or see the bright side of anything. I know awful, right? But this is where I am.I am not someone who has ever been drawn to excessive amounts of drugs or alcohol. (Oh wait I take that back, except for in my 20’s while living in Aspen, Colorado a playground for that world.) But ever since my 30’s I would much rather choose shame, guilt, and anxiety to self-destruct over excessive alcohol, drugs, food, or shopping. So on these days of blackness, I go to the, “Molly you are a piece of shit.” And then I give myself a double decker dose of guilt by beginning the story of, “You are a therapist, self help author. You should know how to pull yourself out of this.” But the truth is I really don’t have the answer. It does not matter that I have my Masters in Psychology, read ten-zillion self help books, worked with priests, shamans, meditation teachers, and the freaking Dalai Lama (I want to say the other F word, but I think that might kill my karma for lifetimes). It does not matter.So what does matter? When you are deep in a dark cave with little light to lead you out, you have to start to find your way in the dark. It starts by slowly feeling around the cave walls to find a sliver of light. So I will go for a walk with a friend, this will be my walk along the cave walls. Then it is about finding your footing as you feel into the cold, clay floor of your cave. This footing will be going home and being grounded by making my children’s lunches, cleaning the house, and giving my husband a hug and kiss goodbye as he leaves for work. All these actions, if I give them my full attention will lead me to a bit more light. Then I may begin to feel a sense of direction take hold and I will proceed to take a shower. I am so thankful for water. I really am. Taking a shower or bath is so cleansing for the mind, body, and soul. It removes the residue from the previous day’s, clients, hardships, and worries. It is a way to start anew. Then as I continue my journey from the dark to the light, I will begin to feel the anxiety release in my body a bit, and maybe a hint of joy in my heart. And as I walk, simply walk out of my cave, I embrace that no magic pill, potion, or promised land can help me on these days, I just need to travel through the dark to receive the light. We have to walk in our shame, anxiety, worthlessness, and fear to remember that we are not that.