And then there are those who’ve been in my life, staples really, who are turning away, some not even waving hello, and that part feels like divorce.
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Think of writing a love letter to someone and mailing it. They feel the love when they receive it, and every time they read it, whenever that is. That’s how Reiki works for me.
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I wonder, does it feel overwhelming to see people all of a sudden, to have conversations, to be so disconnected from the land after living off it? And how will we feel when we can hug again? Because as much as we want to hug other humans, won’t it also be strange?
The endless opportunity of future awaits. As I sit, unknowing, I find myself walking forward into a blazing fire or a healing sunlight, I’m not exactly sure which. I just know it looks really bright. I have no control of the chaos, so I walk and choose the direction of my steps. “I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)” e.e. cummings
She led me to the water, hidden at the end of path. The Hudson River, a little piece of it, held an anchored sailboat. Hugging the shoreline, an enormous swaggy weeping willow leaned in. My grandmother had one just like it, and I remembered being little and swinging from its branches.
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There are probably a million definitions and, I believe, all of them would be true for someone. When receiving Reiki, you are receiving through the vessel of the practitioner.
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Ironically, the breathwork practice I facilitate is all through the mouth. You can imagine that this didn’t land well with me.
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Here, in the woods amongst the trees, is home. Here, with familiar faces, a woodpile full of snakes, and really slow days, is where I heal. Here, I mediate, I breathe, I let go.
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But the truth is that I’ve heard so many people say that they will come out of this confinement either drunk or divorced, and for a minute there, I worried. I may have stopped wearing a bra, stopped dying my hair & brows, and wondered if that might impact my marriage. (It hasn’t.)
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Reading books by Gabrielle Bernstein won’t make you a more spiritual being, but doing the work of seeing what you are allowing or ignoring might. We can talk about love and light all we want, but if we don’t talk about the ways in which we blindly continue to support a system of oppression and abuse, we are part of the problem.
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We were going all the way, me and my grief… It needed space and time to release. I walked to the wall dividing my bedroom from the hallway and leaned against it. As I sobbed, I kept repeating, “Please God, help me.” It was the only thing that steadied my breath.
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And as I sat, I thought about things. Deep things that we talk about at parties or in classes, but never really allow to extend out. Life, our purpose and path; Death, the unavoidable ending (or beginning, depending on how you view it); Pain, the process; illness, healing, growth, aging, etc. I cried, and I cried.
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Little Red Riding Hood was wrong. Between the Big Bad Wolf and movies like the Wolfman, I’d always believed that wolves were dangerous, threatening animals. I couldn’t be more wrong. They are sweet and playful, and are a bit timid around people.
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It was all a blur. What had just happened? It felt like our lives got flipped upside down. This wasn’t in the plan, it wasn’t something we imagined would happen. But then again, do we ever? It’s always somebody else’s thing to worry about… until it’s ours.
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Since I was afraid of being quiet with my own thoughts, I chose friends based on their availability, instead of their personality. Those friendships were always on shaky ground, which gave me more reason to be uncomfortable in relationship.
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I sat, and I waited. I thought of the blessing of this day. I had the grace of sitting amongst these magnificent animals. As I sat on the damp earth, I heard breathing over my shoulder, and felt the nose of a wolf dog brushing against my hair. They were sniffing me.
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As I sat waiting, sending Marco Polos to my friends, texting others for support (I was scared to be photographed), I saw Melodee walk by. I sent her a text letting her know that I’d seen her, that began “So, I am here having tea and saw you, which feels grounding.” She replied, “Where you at? I want tea.”
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They don't forget their memories, they don't forget their past, so they do refer to things as anniversaries of things that are important to us still left on this side. Are they important to them on that side? Well, the answer is…
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And when, in the end, he didn’t, I wasn’t upset about what I didn’t get. I was upset that he didn’t do what he said he’d do. He said something to soothe me, and I am sure that his intentions were good. But I also felt disappointed. I felt like a fool for believing him.
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All was well until it suddenly wasn’t. I started to feel funny. My heart was beating faster and faster, each thump stronger than the last. My body felt hot, my cheeks flushed, and the pace of my breath picked up.
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