I stood and let her waft the sage over me, cleansing and preparing me. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply the earthy scent, asking my body, my mind and my heart to open to the gifts she was offering me.
We had sat and discussed life and expectations and crystals. She is as much teacher as healer. I’m trying to hold on to all the knowledge she has given me, but some of the experience still swirls around in my head as my subconscious and conscious work through processing it all.
These words are part of my processing, even now I’m not exactly sure what my pen will say or how it will interpret, and I’m trying to just let myself open to the natural flow and let my pen tell me my story. It may not come all at once. She told me the healing continues for 2-3 days so perhaps over that time my pen will have new stories to tell me that it wasn’t ready to delve into and explore at this moment.
I am going to try to find some time for meditation over the next little while. I feel called to make space for that, and to make time for my pen to talk to me, to help make clear the fuzziness, or just to open the paths for me to a place where I can start to find peace and healing.
Twenty years of pain is not washed away in a few of hours spent in the skilled hands of a Reiki practitioner but today was another big step in my healing path.
She felt my wall. As she ran her hands over me and felt my energy, she encountered a massive, all-encompassing heaviness. As she was describing it to me I recognized my wall. It is a wall I’ve built around me to keep everyone out, to protect myself from more pain, to distance myself from meeting new people for fear of them seeing my shame, my guilt, and judging me unworthy, in turn creating more pain. Such a vicious loop that just solidifies my fortifications.
Her words filled me with love and hope. “You need to work on taking the wall down, or at least removing a few bricks so that we can help you.”
Those words were comforting and beautiful. My wall was seen and felt and recognized. Most of the time I feel invisible because of my wall, and my wall is invisible because I keep it that way. My wall is my camouflage. I project on to it what I want people to see. Taking it down will be hard because it means allowing people to see me as I am, no artifices or dressing up, just vulnerable and naked and scarred.
Many people will not be comfortable with what they will see when the wall comes down. Some will grab the bricks and mortar and beg me to put the wall back up because dealing with my vulnerability and pain will force them to face their own and it’s hard work to face your vulnerability and pain. If I refuse to rebuild my wall and make them comfortable, several fall outs are possible. Some may pick up the pieces of my wall and hurl them at me in anger, others may pull away and quietly disappear but the ones that I choose to focus on are the ones that extend me a helping hand to pull the wall down so my light can shine, so my pain is seen, recognized and allowed to heal in the safety of their presence, and what chooses to grow in the wall’s place will be nourished by the love and support of the people brave enough to see me for everything that I am, the dark and the light of me.
It’s a constant process. Every day it’s getting up and looking into my pain, my past, my present and future and weighing every decision based on love and openness and being willing to put down the bricks and mortar so at the very least I’m not building my wall any higher or wider. Some days if that’s all I manage, it’s still a victory. The wall may not be any smaller but it didn’t get any bigger either.
My Reiki practitioner gave me such a gift when she saw my wall. To be seen in my pain and vulnerability, to have space held for my weaknesses and to be asked to step out from behind the wall and shine despite whatever burdens I carry, is a huge gift and I thank her for that. I don’t feel so invisible any more and that’s an empowering feeling. It gives me strength to face my journey knowing that my pain, my past, and my worthiness has been seen and accepted by another. It is a validating moment and sometimes validation is exactly what we need to give us the strength to fly.
My wings are ready. Maybe I won’t break my wall down, maybe I’ll climb up to the top of it and jump off, spread my wings and learn to fly. Maybe that’s why I have spent all this time building it so high…