If you are new to my blog, thank you. My inspiration comes from so many, Sylvia Plath, Joan Baez, Nicole Lyons, Amy Winehouse………..and I thank them for sharing their gifts with me, then and in the present tense. I am simply a woman who wants to heal her heart, body and soul. And to do that means I have to face what I have been running from forever.
I began my delve into spiritual awakening a year and a half ago, when I met a woman who does Reiki, at the funeral of my girlfriend’s one and only son. We were sitting in the balcony of a small, home town church filled with grief. She was already suffering terribly from late stage Lyme Disease, and as she came into the church I had to stab my fingernails into my husband’s leg in order not to scream out loud at the pain on her face. The service was unbearable….and to this day, it echoes in my mind.
Half way through the wake, I felt strong hands upon my shoulders. “Just breathe,” a strange female voice whispered.
HOW? How in the world could she tell I was so tense? I have to say that I am a private person, and I wasn’t sure I liked the fact that she was touching me. Nevertheless, I found myself calling her on a rainy, fall afternoon. I was in bad shape and I needed to give this a try, as years of traditional therapy have fallen at the wayside. Some therapists have helped me a great deal, others have harmed. But I was so incredibly heartsick that I could not have bared another moment of darkness.
Over the year and a half she has worked with me, I have come quite far if I say so myself. Far enough that I have wondered, Will I ever really stop hurting, Jesus? I know, deep down, in my very safest place that I am still hurting, but why? I have come to terms, even rewritten my tragic childhood. I am close to my siblings, something we fought for and achieved. I have dealt with my mother’s Borderline Personality Disorder and subsequent mental abuse of me. Dealt with it all…………….Why am I still stuck? Why can’t I move forward?
I cannot afford a Reiki session monthly. Not even close. My backlog of grief had been dealt with, or so I thought. As Jesse (my golden retriever) and I finished our hike today, I bent over and retrieved a little girl’s hair clip. Effervescent blue, shining in the sun. I snatched it up. It didn’t even occur to me, not until much later in this day, that what I have not, in any way, shape or form, dealt with: the loss of not one, but two children. They were not born, but I carried them nonetheless. You can run as far as you want from your pain, but guaranteed, it will catch up with you and have its way with your heart, your soul and every screaming cell in your body.
At the very least, this is a starting point. I picked up the hair clip and kissed it. And as the crows flew overhead, I was reminded that this is not our home. There are people in Heaven who miss and love us dearly. And one day, oh how I pray, I will meet my sweet girls again.