HEALING: ALONE OR TOGETHER?

A single scene deeply influenced me and altered my perspective on perfectionism. It's difficult to adopt a new view when you don’t realise your current mindset has become a self-imposed prison. Rather than feeling hurt when others told me so, I chose to be excessively harsh on myself to avoid having my mistakes pointed out. It was like a ‘ha-ha on you' attitude; you can't hurt me because I hurt myself first and way meaner than you ever can. This approach may seem juvenile, and indeed it is. Our defence mechanisms are developed in early childhood. Although they may have been helpful for survival then, as adults—more mature and capable—we now often find them hindering.

Recognising this is one thing.

Actually, changing it is another.

That was the moment I decided to commit to the intensive self-mastery breathwork retreat, to give myself the gift of facing that fear and many other internal beliefs that have run their course, setting me on a trajectory I’m still trying to find words for.

 Have you ever felt like a single decision could turn your life upside down? This was one of those moments. It felt like the death of some sort to go to the seminar, but I had nowhere else to go. My stagnation reached its end, not like a cliff-edge end, more like you walked down the cliff and made rock bottom home, because the bottom felt safer, away from life. Away from risk and hurt. Like you have explored the bottom to the finest detail, kind of end.

I had overstayed my welcome at the bottom; I no longer felt alive and sensed I was running out of time to reverse that. Therefore, I saw no harm in attending the retreat. At worst, it would be a pointless expenditure of money and time among a bunch of eccentric hippies; at best, I might gain a new perspective on myself and life. It’s strange how we, as humans, prefer the devil we know over the one we don't.

This time, I chose the terrifying unknown, with the mindset that I was coming to resolve myself once and for all. Every breath session felt like shedding something and renewing my life, the very life I was afraid to live. Hiding behind my self-made prison of safety. My safe cave had no room for the wonders of life because safety came from controlling the unknown by excluding everything I didn’t know. Safety kept me small. In doing so, I lost life and everything it brought. The little girl inside me was sabotaging my adult life, and I didn’t have the skills to hold her through this. We were learning to hold and make space for all our emotions and to unite as a single whole being; stagnation separates us from parts of ourselves.

Healing occurs through connection, by linking all the past selves. In connection with my body, heart, mind, and soul. I kept exposing myself repeatedly to life, breathing in that new life, exhaling what didn’t serve me anymore, learning how to hold myself with every breath, thinking I was moving towards a fixed goal, towards perfection, towards worth. Like it’s a one-time exercise and then I would be forever changed—that was my only thought, and to be honest, it was the only thing helping me survive the challenge of facing myself in this week-long seminar of breath, or so I thought.

Then the scene unfolded before my eyes and seared into my brain. Two facilitators, who had been holding space for me over the past few days, switched roles and joined the breath session as participants; to say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement. You mean to say you aren’t fixed yet? Why am I doing all this if 'fixed' wasn’t guaranteed? The answers came to me as a felt experience. The goalpost melted away in that moment as I heard them beside me, facing themselves in their own session. My eyes couldn’t see them as I lay with my eyes closed, but my ears, heart, and body felt their breath and the energy of acceptance transcend over us. I didn’t know their story, what life had dished out to them, what demons they were facing in this very breath, but with every breath coursing through me. I understood ‘perfection’ didn’t exist for anyone. Perfection left the space, and only humans trying their very best to show up for their past, present, and future selves were in the room. The hold of shame dissolved. This is something I would not have comprehended in a one-to-one private session; this was a learned experience through togetherness. Healing happens in unity. Healing happens together when we don’t have to explain but show up in solidarity. As long as we live, life will keep happening, and we will meet it as best we can. And that’s all we can go do. To be fair, to all, it's our first experience in life, as far as we know! Nobody who went came back sharing that their second shot at life was easier. And if so, please point them in my direction.

This was a breakthrough for me. This was the ‘duh’ moment. I hadn’t realised until then that not being perfect was an option. The opposite of perfection isn’t imperfection; it’s simply being human. When facilitators turned into participants and showed their humanity, their vulnerability, their incompleteness, it created an opportunity and an invitation to let go of the need to be perfect and just be human—authentically just like them. Modelling and embodying the truth spoke more than any word ever will. It felt like a relief, as if I’d been waiting for permission to be myself genuinely. No one in the room knew what this gift truly meant to me, and I couldn’t share at the moment, either. The courage to show up imperfect, mistaken, misunderstood—just human, with all my flaws, scars, quirks, preferences, and choices—felt like the world made room for me; it gave me a place in a world where I never thought I could find peace. Embracing vulnerability transformed my limitations into possibilities. We are always evolving, always in progress. This realisation helped me accept my humanity and step into the joy of simply existing, softening into the present moment and life itself.

And healing ceased to be an exercise in ‘fixing’ me and became simply an unfolding flow of life without chasing, just being. A seminar with a small group of strangers gave me something that will live with me forever beyond the confines of that week-long retreat.

My breath, my strength to carry myself through life, the clarity of my identity, and my connection with others restored my trust in my role as a human and in humanity at large.