Today i went to see my healer. It had been awhile since my last visit– several months at least. I went because the last couple of weeks of my life have felt like I’ve been turned upside down and sideways and inside out one too many times… and my left shoulder wouldn’t stop hurting. I went in feeling pretty certain of a few things– figuring there were some things to be acknowledged and felt in my heart– some roots I was having a hard time accessing on my own. I went in feeling ready to acknowledge and release some anger. What I didn’t realize before seeing him were all of the other subtle energies that were zapping me– and I was wholly unaware of the “energetic knot” (a.k.a. searing pain) sitting in my sternum.
As always, he keeps me honest in a way no human being ever has. He makes me delve into and feel spaces that I would prefer to immolate. He asks me questions that I don’t always want to find the answer to. He holds space for me to settle into my cells and give myself the time that I offer so many others. He asks me to do what I ask people to do when they enter into a session with me– He asks me to connect to my pain. And he helps me to navigate my way through my own resistance to doing so. I always walk out of his door feeling lighter, clearer and brighter than when I entered.
Today he identified an energetic knot in my sternum that contained the most intense despair I’ve ever experienced– and he sat with me and held space for me to settle into that pain which was mine and mine alone to feel. He described seeing me in the middle of three people– and I knew immediately it was my partner and two children. Once I acknowledged my resistance and asked my body to stop reacting and settle into the pain– I was given the clear message YOU ARE HELD.
I told him those were the words that came and he asked me if I believed that? I answered after a long pause, wanting desperately to say yes, “I don’t know.”
He asked “What would it mean if you did believe it?” I paused again and then answered “that my family is held too… and I can’t control everything… and I can’t take care of everyone…”
“… but I don’t know how NOT to take care of everyone…”
And then came the word, loud and clear like a bullet through my brain, TRUST.
And I think that’s a good place to start.
As a mother I worry, despite all of my wisdom to the contrary. It’s part of our function once we reproduce. I worry and I feel guilty, and I wonder what more I can be doing. I feel as though I’m standing along the sidelines of my children’s adolescence desperately trying to contribute something– only to realize that there is absolutely nothing that I can do at this point– beyond offer water and shouts of encouragement. And I assure you, I’m the most enthusiastic fan in the crowd.
There is absolutely nothing I can do to decrease the awkwardness or discomfort that my children feel. I cannot take their struggle away from them. I can’t change the fact that they live their lives shuffling between two different homes. I can’t ease their hormonal transitions or maneuver their social landscapes for them. I cannot take their pain or struggles from them. I can only feel my own pain at my own helplessness– and remember that I have done my very best to let them know every day of their lives that they are loved beyond measure and capable of anything they choose to do.
What I can do is remember that I AM HELD, and so is my family. I can TRUST that every moment I’ve had with them since their inception is still living and breathing in their cells. I can TRUST the immensity of my love for them, and know that vibration of love is at the very center of their being. I can TRUST the love that created them and continues to surround them with each and every breath, and know that moving between two different environments will make them stronger, more capable human beings.
I can trust that they are and will continue to be those bright, brilliant, phenomenal human beings who are without question the most indispensable and valuable gifts I’ve ever received. And know that they are and will continue to be beyond anything that I can possibly imagine.