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Showing posts with label reiki. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reiki. Show all posts
Friday, June 25, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Appreciation for 04/26/10
*Decisions. Lots and lots of decisions. Didn't always think that was something to be grateful for. I see it differently now and I'm thankful for that. *Realizing it has been a very long time since I thought about and longed for a certain person to be back in my life. Huge gratitude for that! *My life is f-l-o-w-i-n-g. *Experiencing and understanding what "easeful" feels like. *My Reiki seminar yesterday was a hit. It was fun to share it in my own way, rather than relying on another's training manual. *Feeling the energy flow through me so strongly while I did the Reiki attunements. Feeling my body move with the flow. *Listening to a song that has the lyrics "money makes the world go 'round..." and realizing that I no longer twinge or feel lack even though I actually have the least amount of cash I've ever had in my adult life. *Being an approved substitute teacher so I can substitute for Gaby today because she's so sick. Also being the Assistant Director so I can step in for the Director when she's so sick. ~ My life IS beautiful!
Grace in Small Things
Grace in Small Things
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
I Rock!
I just facilitated one of the most kickass 3-hour sessions I have ever experienced. I amaze myself, sometimes, with the brilliance that shines through while I'm in this particular aspect of my Genius self. I love witnessing the shifts, the awakenings, the integration and the realignment that happens for my clients. I love seeing the knowing dawn on their faces and the love of self radiate from within them. I love knowing that I was there, I had the questions they needed to hear and they shifted in the most poetically perfect way. I LOVE my healing gifts!
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Phone Call
My phone rang. It was my good friend, Jen. We had talked earlier and it had been a bubbly, peppy talk so I wasn't prepared for the quietness in her voice.
"Have you talked to Mary recently?"
I went on alert. I had thought I had more time with Maret. I had thought that the doctors had lied. I had thought that, since we had passed the seven day mark that we were golden. Even though I reminded myself that we all are on borrowed time and Maret more than ever, I still thought we were home free.
"Not since earlier today, before she went to the eye doctors. Is it Maret?"
"No." She choked for a moment and my heart crashed. This much emotion and it's not Maret? Oh. My. God.
"What is it, Jen?"
"Mary's doctor has scheduled her for an MRI brain scan tomorrow. There is a possibility that she has a tumor."
My world crashed down around me as the tears exploded out of me with such a force that I was certain my lungs would collapse. "NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
We cried together and I sniffled into the phone, hiccuping and saying, "I wasn't prepared for that news. I feel like I have been blind-sided."
And then we laughed together because, somehow, my choice of words were ironically poetic and hilarious. Especially since it was Mary's narrowing line of vision that had caused her concern enough to go to the eye doctor's. I spoke with Mary later on last night. I heard the fear and the sadness and the anger in her voice. I could hear her asking questions in her mind, the same questions I was asking in mine, I suppose.
In the quiet of the night last night, while I tossed and turned in bed finding no respite from the sadness in the depths of sleep, I stared into the darkness and wondered... what am I to make of all this? I feel scared and sad and angry. It feels like too much. This week feels like too much.
I will go to Mary on Friday, in the quiet moments of the afternoon, and lay my hands upon her head. In the stillness we will find some peace and, perhaps, a miracle or two.
"Have you talked to Mary recently?"
I went on alert. I had thought I had more time with Maret. I had thought that the doctors had lied. I had thought that, since we had passed the seven day mark that we were golden. Even though I reminded myself that we all are on borrowed time and Maret more than ever, I still thought we were home free.
"Not since earlier today, before she went to the eye doctors. Is it Maret?"
"No." She choked for a moment and my heart crashed. This much emotion and it's not Maret? Oh. My. God.
"What is it, Jen?"
"Mary's doctor has scheduled her for an MRI brain scan tomorrow. There is a possibility that she has a tumor."
My world crashed down around me as the tears exploded out of me with such a force that I was certain my lungs would collapse. "NOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"
We cried together and I sniffled into the phone, hiccuping and saying, "I wasn't prepared for that news. I feel like I have been blind-sided."
And then we laughed together because, somehow, my choice of words were ironically poetic and hilarious. Especially since it was Mary's narrowing line of vision that had caused her concern enough to go to the eye doctor's. I spoke with Mary later on last night. I heard the fear and the sadness and the anger in her voice. I could hear her asking questions in her mind, the same questions I was asking in mine, I suppose.
In the quiet of the night last night, while I tossed and turned in bed finding no respite from the sadness in the depths of sleep, I stared into the darkness and wondered... what am I to make of all this? I feel scared and sad and angry. It feels like too much. This week feels like too much.
I will go to Mary on Friday, in the quiet moments of the afternoon, and lay my hands upon her head. In the stillness we will find some peace and, perhaps, a miracle or two.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Sharing (6)
"My Feet"
My feet have done me proud all my life. They are little, tiny things - generally a size 5 1/2 or 6 - which makes sense since I am only 5' tall. I always am amused by people who flip over how small my feet are because it would just be silly if they were any bigger. I would look like a clown.
My feet have danced my way through life so they are strong and know how to point prettily. What I like most about my feet is that they are symetrical... from big toe to little toe, each toe is just slightly shorter than the one proceeding it. They form a beautiful, graceful, curving slope downward without the usual second-toe-longer thing that most people have. I like that. And it made it so much more comfortable when it came time for me to go up en pointe when I was in ballet.
Over the last few years, my feet have begun to feel sad. As the pounds have accumulated around my small skeleton, my feet have taken the brunt of it. They are supporting double the weight they were made to support and they are showing the wear and tear. Some days, by the time I crash into bed, my feet seem to be screaming for relief. Thing is, the louder they scream, it seems I ignore them more. I mean, I am not losing any weight. It's just staying there. I feel different about myself and people are seeing me differently, but the scales? They still holler out the truth with blaring rudeness.
In addition to the weight, the energy work I do really grounds through my feet. I became aware of the change in my feet when I began my internship as Reiki Master Teacher. My feet went through some wild changes during that time. And now, I am really aware of them while I am working. Sometimes they feel as hot as a volcano. Sometimes they feel heavy, like they are encased in cinderblock. While I am doing this work and channeling in a cycle heaven to earth, I realize that the energy is not accumulating there, but those little feet of mine are conduit for the heat of the Universe.
A few years ago, my mother gave me a pedicure as a gift. She loves pedicures. I appreciated the loving gesture and ventured in to the salon for the experience. Because my feet appear so abused - no matter how much lotion I slather on them - I am very conscious of how others view my feet. I have had people gasp in horror when they spy the gaping cracks and thick, calloused heels. It isn't pretty and I felt embarrassed to have someone working on my feet.
The young lady was not very well trained. She razored my heels to rawness. She picked at my toenails until they bled (I have never had a problem with the toes, just the heels) and she buffed the sides of my feet to burning pinkness with a block of what seemed like coarse-grained sandpaper. For three weeks following the ordeal, I could barely walk and the pain for the first three days was so intense it brought tears to my eyes. I haven't had a pedicure since.
While I was in massage school, Reflexology was a required course - actually the very first class of my very first semester. People were going to have to be touching my feet???! Ugh! I was mortified! The ten-week class, however, gave me a new appreciation of my feet. I began to love them again. They began to feel happy again. Then the class ended and I no longer had an "excuse" to pay attention to them.
My feet have continued to do what is expected of them. They walk me to and fro. They dance me. They run me if, god forbid (cuz I hate it!), I ever decide to run. They jump when I need them to. They hold me steady on the earth. And... I ignore them, for the most part.
My good friend, Jen Halterman offers an amazing service of Intuitive Coaching while the client is receiving an ionic foot bath. She and I discussed the option of doing professional trades. I had no idea what an ionic foot bath was and was concerned that it was a modality that, once again, would focus my attention on my feet, but it felt right (chivels and all) so I went for it.
WOW!
I loved that I had the ability to see a physical response to the energetic and emotional processing she facilitated. Being that I am a Reiki Master Teacher, I am able to amp up the process and truly chose in for the hour I was with her. I experienced physical, shifting responses in my body. I felt pain rise and leave. I heard my stories of sadness disipating into the water that grew evermore murky until it looked like I was soaking in thick coffee. I appreciated the sensations that woke up in my adipose fat - my biggest storage area of protection. I appreciated the innate sense that the memories were dissolving and melting out of me.
Afterward, I felt lighter and my feet felt wide awake. I was so aware of my feet, sending them appreciations and love. Despite the weight they carry, my feet truly do their job well. I am grateful for that.
BACK TO DIRECTORY
My feet have done me proud all my life. They are little, tiny things - generally a size 5 1/2 or 6 - which makes sense since I am only 5' tall. I always am amused by people who flip over how small my feet are because it would just be silly if they were any bigger. I would look like a clown.My feet have danced my way through life so they are strong and know how to point prettily. What I like most about my feet is that they are symetrical... from big toe to little toe, each toe is just slightly shorter than the one proceeding it. They form a beautiful, graceful, curving slope downward without the usual second-toe-longer thing that most people have. I like that. And it made it so much more comfortable when it came time for me to go up en pointe when I was in ballet.
Over the last few years, my feet have begun to feel sad. As the pounds have accumulated around my small skeleton, my feet have taken the brunt of it. They are supporting double the weight they were made to support and they are showing the wear and tear. Some days, by the time I crash into bed, my feet seem to be screaming for relief. Thing is, the louder they scream, it seems I ignore them more. I mean, I am not losing any weight. It's just staying there. I feel different about myself and people are seeing me differently, but the scales? They still holler out the truth with blaring rudeness.
In addition to the weight, the energy work I do really grounds through my feet. I became aware of the change in my feet when I began my internship as Reiki Master Teacher. My feet went through some wild changes during that time. And now, I am really aware of them while I am working. Sometimes they feel as hot as a volcano. Sometimes they feel heavy, like they are encased in cinderblock. While I am doing this work and channeling in a cycle heaven to earth, I realize that the energy is not accumulating there, but those little feet of mine are conduit for the heat of the Universe.
A few years ago, my mother gave me a pedicure as a gift. She loves pedicures. I appreciated the loving gesture and ventured in to the salon for the experience. Because my feet appear so abused - no matter how much lotion I slather on them - I am very conscious of how others view my feet. I have had people gasp in horror when they spy the gaping cracks and thick, calloused heels. It isn't pretty and I felt embarrassed to have someone working on my feet.The young lady was not very well trained. She razored my heels to rawness. She picked at my toenails until they bled (I have never had a problem with the toes, just the heels) and she buffed the sides of my feet to burning pinkness with a block of what seemed like coarse-grained sandpaper. For three weeks following the ordeal, I could barely walk and the pain for the first three days was so intense it brought tears to my eyes. I haven't had a pedicure since.
While I was in massage school, Reflexology was a required course - actually the very first class of my very first semester. People were going to have to be touching my feet???! Ugh! I was mortified! The ten-week class, however, gave me a new appreciation of my feet. I began to love them again. They began to feel happy again. Then the class ended and I no longer had an "excuse" to pay attention to them.
My feet have continued to do what is expected of them. They walk me to and fro. They dance me. They run me if, god forbid (cuz I hate it!), I ever decide to run. They jump when I need them to. They hold me steady on the earth. And... I ignore them, for the most part.
My good friend, Jen Halterman offers an amazing service of Intuitive Coaching while the client is receiving an ionic foot bath. She and I discussed the option of doing professional trades. I had no idea what an ionic foot bath was and was concerned that it was a modality that, once again, would focus my attention on my feet, but it felt right (chivels and all) so I went for it.
WOW!
I loved that I had the ability to see a physical response to the energetic and emotional processing she facilitated. Being that I am a Reiki Master Teacher, I am able to amp up the process and truly chose in for the hour I was with her. I experienced physical, shifting responses in my body. I felt pain rise and leave. I heard my stories of sadness disipating into the water that grew evermore murky until it looked like I was soaking in thick coffee. I appreciated the sensations that woke up in my adipose fat - my biggest storage area of protection. I appreciated the innate sense that the memories were dissolving and melting out of me.Afterward, I felt lighter and my feet felt wide awake. I was so aware of my feet, sending them appreciations and love. Despite the weight they carry, my feet truly do their job well. I am grateful for that.
BACK TO DIRECTORY
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Magical...
It has been a magical day. One full of love and beautiful people. The Reiki Party today was attended, in full, by a family. Seven members of the same family - male and female - here to support one another in their awakenings and I got to be a part of that.
I am grateful to see the life I want actually unfolding before me. I am grateful to be living my life and feeling love. I am grateful for the moments I feel the intense sadness and anger from the past. I am grateful because I understand that it is showing up because NOW I am strong enough to hold space for it to move through. It means I am here, I am alive and I am becoming.
This party today was such a blessed event. What an honor it was to place my hands on each of these people who walked into my space, trusting that I would be gentle with them. I felt such love and humility. And so much magic as these amazing people moved through my space. I love that this family chose to honor themselves and one another by taking a Saturday morning to spend together in this way.
I wonder what the world would be like if more families did this. I wonder... How can I do this with more families?
I am grateful to see the life I want actually unfolding before me. I am grateful to be living my life and feeling love. I am grateful for the moments I feel the intense sadness and anger from the past. I am grateful because I understand that it is showing up because NOW I am strong enough to hold space for it to move through. It means I am here, I am alive and I am becoming.
This party today was such a blessed event. What an honor it was to place my hands on each of these people who walked into my space, trusting that I would be gentle with them. I felt such love and humility. And so much magic as these amazing people moved through my space. I love that this family chose to honor themselves and one another by taking a Saturday morning to spend together in this way.
I wonder what the world would be like if more families did this. I wonder... How can I do this with more families?
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Blessed
I feel so blessed. I am creating a life worth living and feel grateful that my imagination and creativity is firing so boldly to move me forward in easeful, fun ways.
I am excited about this Reiki party idea that Liz and I spawned. It is an amazing way to meet people and have fun at the same time! My party yesterday was just as successful as the first one with Liz. It was a totally different energy and different experience and incredibly successful, nonetheless.
I feel so fulfilled and complete right now. I am feeling grateful for being who I am and creating what I am and feeling light and free. I am grateful that I have chosen to keep going forward. Even in fear - and now, especially when I am in fear - I am going forward. I am choosing to say, "I am scared and I am going forward." This is new for me. So very new and I feel hopeful and abundant and oh so very blessed.
I am excited about this Reiki party idea that Liz and I spawned. It is an amazing way to meet people and have fun at the same time! My party yesterday was just as successful as the first one with Liz. It was a totally different energy and different experience and incredibly successful, nonetheless.
I feel so fulfilled and complete right now. I am feeling grateful for being who I am and creating what I am and feeling light and free. I am grateful that I have chosen to keep going forward. Even in fear - and now, especially when I am in fear - I am going forward. I am choosing to say, "I am scared and I am going forward." This is new for me. So very new and I feel hopeful and abundant and oh so very blessed.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
TT - "Behind Those Eyes"
As I have mentioned before, I am a Reiki Master, trained in the art of facilitating others in their healing. Just after I completed my internship and Mastered, I took on a regular client in a business trade arrangement. We have been working together for almost two years now. When we began, she was in the beginning phases of her third battle with cancer.
She lost her right breast first to cancer about thirteen years ago. Five years later, she was diagnosed with a much more aggressive and completely different cancer in her left breast. They said they got it all. Five or so years later, she started feeling ill and went in for a check-up. That visit revealed that the aggressive cancer was back. It had settled in her hips and skull. Since then, it has spread to her legs and spots have shown up in her liver.
In the beginning of our work together, we were able to eliminate her pain and drastically slow the growth of cancer. Her tumor markers dropped to astoundingly low levels and her oncologist kept saying, "Whatever you are doing, keep doing it." She continually expressed her gratitude that she was completely without pain. I was grateful to be working with a client that was so firm in her resolve to get well and to live. I appreciated watching her physical and spiritual presence grow and her voice become strong. I loved hearing her stories and feeling her energy and supporting her on her journey. Our intention was clear from the very first session when she stated, "I am going to beat this cancer. I am determined to live my life as a healthy person."
Last fall, she took on a huge project of moving her aunt into a rest home. This entailed cleaning out her aunt's residence of many, many decades. For a month straight, they toiled and labored to clean out the home. I noticed that she was showing signs of fatigue. She accepted responsibility for not caring properly for herself and for working too hard on the project. Just as her project was wrapping and her energy level was at its lowest ever, I got bitten by that bug and ended up wading through the West Nile for over six weeks. I was unable to work for almost three months.
When we got back together just before Christmas, I was startled to see the stark difference. I felt tears burn my throat as she whispered, "I can't beat this cancer. It's not going to go away. I have accepted that." Her entire outlook had changed and I felt the desperation run through her body. She was so tired of the battle. So tired of the struggle. The pain had escalated. Her markers had shot up. Her energy level was completely drained. Her life force was strained. Her body was being ravaged by a weed that had not been properly tamed.
I reverently placed my hands upon her body that day, praying that I could do something to bring her back. The rhythms of her soul were so slow, they were almost undetectable. I wanted to pull my hands back and yell at the universe. I wanted to be angry with her. I wanted to hold her here, make her live.
At the beginning of this year, she came into my office for her first Reiki appointment this year with tears streaming down her face. This beautiful, 5'10" warrioress stood before me defeated and deflated. A physically diminished woman, her clothes hanging from her shrinking frame, her eyes haunted. And, behind those eyes, the message of the warrioress was clear: the journey has taken a turn we were not prepared for. I watched her and intuitively knew it was time to help the warrioress lay down her sword and shield and prepare her to be laid to rest. My heart sank to the floor and I cried with her. I wasn't ready to let her go. I wanted to hold on for forever. I wanted my beautiful, strong friend to be with me throughout life. I wasn't ready to release into death another one of my deeply-loved friends.
In the beginning, our appointments were every other week. This year, though, I switched her to every week because her life force was so weak. She had things she wanted to finish before she walked off the earth. She wasn't ready to go either. Our sessions were about refilling her reserves so she make it from week to week.
She started chemo again, as per her doctors assurance that "this will help you feel better." This morning she called me to say that she wouldn't be here for her appointment. She was going back to the doctors. After one dose of chemo, her system is completly shot. She went in yesterday and they told her they would need to give her four rounds of stuff (I don't know what) to boost her system before they could even get her strong enough for the next chemo dose. Something has gone seriously wrong.
I feel sad to know that the world is going to lose this amazing woman. I feel sad that I am going to lose a best friend. I feel sad that cancer is rampaging through humanity at alarming rates and we are seemingly at its mercy. The problem with that is, cancer has no mercy. It is not a respector of class, race, education, age or sex. It takes where it can. There are gifts in cancer. I know this. She has taught me this, as have several other people in my life. The sadness, though, of knowing that I am literally watching my friend die is intense beyond belief.
She lost her right breast first to cancer about thirteen years ago. Five years later, she was diagnosed with a much more aggressive and completely different cancer in her left breast. They said they got it all. Five or so years later, she started feeling ill and went in for a check-up. That visit revealed that the aggressive cancer was back. It had settled in her hips and skull. Since then, it has spread to her legs and spots have shown up in her liver.
In the beginning of our work together, we were able to eliminate her pain and drastically slow the growth of cancer. Her tumor markers dropped to astoundingly low levels and her oncologist kept saying, "Whatever you are doing, keep doing it." She continually expressed her gratitude that she was completely without pain. I was grateful to be working with a client that was so firm in her resolve to get well and to live. I appreciated watching her physical and spiritual presence grow and her voice become strong. I loved hearing her stories and feeling her energy and supporting her on her journey. Our intention was clear from the very first session when she stated, "I am going to beat this cancer. I am determined to live my life as a healthy person."
Last fall, she took on a huge project of moving her aunt into a rest home. This entailed cleaning out her aunt's residence of many, many decades. For a month straight, they toiled and labored to clean out the home. I noticed that she was showing signs of fatigue. She accepted responsibility for not caring properly for herself and for working too hard on the project. Just as her project was wrapping and her energy level was at its lowest ever, I got bitten by that bug and ended up wading through the West Nile for over six weeks. I was unable to work for almost three months.
When we got back together just before Christmas, I was startled to see the stark difference. I felt tears burn my throat as she whispered, "I can't beat this cancer. It's not going to go away. I have accepted that." Her entire outlook had changed and I felt the desperation run through her body. She was so tired of the battle. So tired of the struggle. The pain had escalated. Her markers had shot up. Her energy level was completely drained. Her life force was strained. Her body was being ravaged by a weed that had not been properly tamed.
I reverently placed my hands upon her body that day, praying that I could do something to bring her back. The rhythms of her soul were so slow, they were almost undetectable. I wanted to pull my hands back and yell at the universe. I wanted to be angry with her. I wanted to hold her here, make her live.
At the beginning of this year, she came into my office for her first Reiki appointment this year with tears streaming down her face. This beautiful, 5'10" warrioress stood before me defeated and deflated. A physically diminished woman, her clothes hanging from her shrinking frame, her eyes haunted. And, behind those eyes, the message of the warrioress was clear: the journey has taken a turn we were not prepared for. I watched her and intuitively knew it was time to help the warrioress lay down her sword and shield and prepare her to be laid to rest. My heart sank to the floor and I cried with her. I wasn't ready to let her go. I wanted to hold on for forever. I wanted my beautiful, strong friend to be with me throughout life. I wasn't ready to release into death another one of my deeply-loved friends.
In the beginning, our appointments were every other week. This year, though, I switched her to every week because her life force was so weak. She had things she wanted to finish before she walked off the earth. She wasn't ready to go either. Our sessions were about refilling her reserves so she make it from week to week.
She started chemo again, as per her doctors assurance that "this will help you feel better." This morning she called me to say that she wouldn't be here for her appointment. She was going back to the doctors. After one dose of chemo, her system is completly shot. She went in yesterday and they told her they would need to give her four rounds of stuff (I don't know what) to boost her system before they could even get her strong enough for the next chemo dose. Something has gone seriously wrong.
I feel sad to know that the world is going to lose this amazing woman. I feel sad that I am going to lose a best friend. I feel sad that cancer is rampaging through humanity at alarming rates and we are seemingly at its mercy. The problem with that is, cancer has no mercy. It is not a respector of class, race, education, age or sex. It takes where it can. There are gifts in cancer. I know this. She has taught me this, as have several other people in my life. The sadness, though, of knowing that I am literally watching my friend die is intense beyond belief.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The Long Rest
Saturday was an incredible gift to myself.
A few months ago, a new client walked into my life and she has forever changed me. I love it when that happens! She (Hi, Liz!) opened my eyes to the huge possibilities of who I am. I had been dreaming small and hoping for greatness, yet having no idea what that looked like or how to go about it. My imagination was so limited on what I could come up with, mostly because I tend to be an "Either/Or" sort of gal and have difficulties finding the "AND" space.
She emailed me a few months ago and said, "Angie, have you ever heard of psychic parties? I am wondering if we could do that, only with Reiki?"
I about fell off my chair as chivels washed over me. A Reiki Party?!?! Who would've thought?! Well, Liz would've thought, that's who. I had been asking the Universe, "How can I grow my business, share what I do AND have fun?" The Universe delivered Liz.
Saturday was the premier of the Reiki Parties. As I prepared the space on Friday, I worried that the women would get bored while they were waiting for their session. I was worried that I would not be able to provide a juicy enough session in the fifteen minutes per person limit. I was worried that no one would show. I was worried they would want to leave as soon as they were done.
All of it was for naught.
The women stayed for over four hours. We had an excellent showing. There was a lot of laughter and tears. The women supported one another and shared with one another their experiences from their mini-sessions. They said they would do it again and would recommend it to their friends. I got great feedback on the experience.
My first Reiki party was a HUGE success. I attribute part of that success to my hostess, Liz. She was gracious and beautiful, peaceful and informative, loving and loveable. I wouldn't have ever thought of this without her and am grateful that the first experience was so amazing.
I feel successful, peaceful and abundant today. I feel like I am on top of the world and feel excited to have the opportunity to share who I am, what I know and how I feel with the world. I am grateful I am sharing in a way that is bringing love and peace to those around me so that they can spread that to the people they know. My touch is creating ripples of wonderfulness and I feel so blessed to be in the center of that!
WOW! It's a beautiful day!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
WOW!
It is a beautiful day outside.
My Reiki party was astounding yesterday. Got rave reviews. Had a blast
I feel blessed today.
That is all. :)
My Reiki party was astounding yesterday. Got rave reviews. Had a blast
I feel blessed today.
That is all. :)
Monday, April 07, 2008
What Is My Body For?
A while back, my Reiki Master Teacher, Laiya Moniak, facilitated a session for me where we bumped up pretty stiffly against my walls of self-protection which are turning inward and developing a destructive force. For a long time now, I have had this "Hate Affair" with my body, seeing it as my enemy, rather than my ally. Its cumbersome form is getting the best of me and I feel scared, as though some alien force is at the helm of my ship. This disconnect, this need to be disembodied and absent from my physical form, has resulted in me placing myself in some dangerous situations. And, as I commit to moving forward, I am realizing that this particular program has got to change.
I feel inspired to share here my most recent exercise with her as part of my "Progression Into Beauty" work... (for a directory to the rest of the posts within this work, CLICK HERE.)
What is my body for?
You asked me this question and I felt lost, confused, unknowing. And then I felt scared. It is my body, for godsake! How can I not know what my body is for?
I have carried your note with me since that session, moving it continually forward to the next day, saying, “I’ll get to that tomorrow.” Well, tomorrow never came. Until now. And, interestingly enough, right after I wrote “until now,” my daughter called me. I have the impulse to say that one of the most important things that my body was for was creating her. And, I also understand that the answers we are searching for are different than that... I get the sense we are looking for present tense answers.
I feel scared...
“Can you find ten things that your body is for?” You had asked me and then added, “Can you find one thing that you will not judge?”
Yeah... I feel really scared. Here we go...
My body is for weighting (I heard “waiting” and wanted to type “waiting” but my fingers typed “weighting”).
My body is for carrying pain.
My body is for gathering information.
My body is for housing my healing gifts, my Reiki energy, my psychic powers.
My body is for enjoyment through my senses – especially hearing and touch.
My body is for holding on to old things.
My body is for flowing movement.
My body is for holding fear too close.
My body is for resting.
My body is for embracing.
My body is for luxuriating. (really?)
My body is for channeling information for myself and others.
My body is for understanding.
My body is for creation.
My body is for going to the movies. (found this one quite funny)
My body is for stuffing. (ick)
My body is for observing.
My body is for protection.
My body is for karma.
My body is for back stepping. (Aaaaaaaa... feel sad about this one)
My body is for unfulfilled yearnings. (sad about this one too)
My body is for connection.
My body is for profit. (WTF?! Totally judging this one.)
My body is for being in the sun.
My body is for laughter.
My body is for creating money. (NOT! Judging this one.)
My body is for repressed anger. (total resonation)
My body is for living.
My body is for travel.
My body is for comfort.
My body is for large emotional boundaries. (wow)
My body is for reaching out, but not grasping. (sad)
My body is for no return on investment. (What???!)
My body is for ease but I don’t believe that. (lol! That is exactly what I heard!!!)
My body is for copulation. (God! I hate that specific word – sounds so scientific and disconnected – although I love sex. I am curious why that word is the one that came up!!!)
My body is for rejoicing, singing, dancing, climbing, loving. (these all tumbled out together, one right after another faster, almost, than I could type)
My body is for rising above. (curious about this one.)
My body is for eating.
My body is for fulfillment.
My body is for joy.
My body is for weaving sparkling, beautiful ribbons of color in the world. (curious what this means.)
My body is for taking one step at a time.
My body is for listening.
My body is for holding.
My body is for being.
Okay… so that was way more than ten. I chose to put on meditative music and do this with my eyes closed. On each line, I silently asked, “What is my body for?” and typed the words, “My body is for,” and then would wait. I channeled whatever word, sensation, image or experience came to me and If anything came up after writing the sentence, I jotted that down too.
I am noticing right now that I feel a lot of repressed anger in my body, especially on my left side. My jaw is in raging pain across my whole face and feels like it is in lock-down. My muscles along my spine from mid-back to my ear are clenched on the left side. My left ear is burning. My sacral-iliac joint on the left side is pulsing painfully. My right leg from hip to toe is ice cold. My mouth is dry. My head feels like it weighs a ton and like I cannot hold it up for the life of me.
I haven’t read through the list, but am going to now before I send this off. If anything else comes up, I will make note of that. (Interesting... just as I finished “make note of that,” former husband called and I instantly felt all those anger symptoms skyrocket)
Any feedback?
~Angie
BACK TO DIRECTORY
I feel inspired to share here my most recent exercise with her as part of my "Progression Into Beauty" work... (for a directory to the rest of the posts within this work, CLICK HERE.)
~~~
What is my body for?
You asked me this question and I felt lost, confused, unknowing. And then I felt scared. It is my body, for godsake! How can I not know what my body is for?
I have carried your note with me since that session, moving it continually forward to the next day, saying, “I’ll get to that tomorrow.” Well, tomorrow never came. Until now. And, interestingly enough, right after I wrote “until now,” my daughter called me. I have the impulse to say that one of the most important things that my body was for was creating her. And, I also understand that the answers we are searching for are different than that... I get the sense we are looking for present tense answers.
I feel scared...
“Can you find ten things that your body is for?” You had asked me and then added, “Can you find one thing that you will not judge?”
Yeah... I feel really scared. Here we go...
My body is for weighting (I heard “waiting” and wanted to type “waiting” but my fingers typed “weighting”).
My body is for carrying pain.
My body is for gathering information.
My body is for housing my healing gifts, my Reiki energy, my psychic powers.
My body is for enjoyment through my senses – especially hearing and touch.
My body is for holding on to old things.
My body is for flowing movement.
My body is for holding fear too close.
My body is for resting.
My body is for embracing.
My body is for luxuriating. (really?)
My body is for channeling information for myself and others.
My body is for understanding.
My body is for creation.
My body is for going to the movies. (found this one quite funny)
My body is for stuffing. (ick)
My body is for observing.
My body is for protection.
My body is for karma.
My body is for back stepping. (Aaaaaaaa... feel sad about this one)
My body is for unfulfilled yearnings. (sad about this one too)
My body is for connection.
My body is for profit. (WTF?! Totally judging this one.)
My body is for being in the sun.
My body is for laughter.
My body is for creating money. (NOT! Judging this one.)
My body is for repressed anger. (total resonation)
My body is for living.
My body is for travel.
My body is for comfort.
My body is for large emotional boundaries. (wow)
My body is for reaching out, but not grasping. (sad)
My body is for no return on investment. (What???!)
My body is for ease but I don’t believe that. (lol! That is exactly what I heard!!!)
My body is for copulation. (God! I hate that specific word – sounds so scientific and disconnected – although I love sex. I am curious why that word is the one that came up!!!)
My body is for rejoicing, singing, dancing, climbing, loving. (these all tumbled out together, one right after another faster, almost, than I could type)
My body is for rising above. (curious about this one.)
My body is for eating.
My body is for fulfillment.
My body is for joy.
My body is for weaving sparkling, beautiful ribbons of color in the world. (curious what this means.)
My body is for taking one step at a time.
My body is for listening.
My body is for holding.
My body is for being.
Okay… so that was way more than ten. I chose to put on meditative music and do this with my eyes closed. On each line, I silently asked, “What is my body for?” and typed the words, “My body is for,” and then would wait. I channeled whatever word, sensation, image or experience came to me and If anything came up after writing the sentence, I jotted that down too.
I am noticing right now that I feel a lot of repressed anger in my body, especially on my left side. My jaw is in raging pain across my whole face and feels like it is in lock-down. My muscles along my spine from mid-back to my ear are clenched on the left side. My left ear is burning. My sacral-iliac joint on the left side is pulsing painfully. My right leg from hip to toe is ice cold. My mouth is dry. My head feels like it weighs a ton and like I cannot hold it up for the life of me.
I haven’t read through the list, but am going to now before I send this off. If anything else comes up, I will make note of that. (Interesting... just as I finished “make note of that,” former husband called and I instantly felt all those anger symptoms skyrocket)
Any feedback?
~Angie
BACK TO DIRECTORY
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Heathens in the Basement
I must admit... it seems that I have listened to General Conference more since I left the Church than I did while I was an active member. As an active member, it was all I could do to fit it in. Back then, I viewed General Conference as a much welcomed respite from the constant "do do DO" of the religion and I would begrudgingly set aside the entire weekend, twice a year, to somehow find myself planted in front of the television to partake of the wisdom and Word of God. Once or twice, I got very lucky - usually when visited by members from out of town - to be able to attend Conference at the Tabernacle (back when the Church still held Conference there.) I would dutifully take notes - moreso to stay awake - and would hope to absorb the "thing" that I was searching for to fill the space within me that always seemed empty.
After 32 years - one year after going through the Temple on my own - I realized that that "thing" was never going to show up and I, finally, stopped trying.
Now, being an ex-member and it no longer being a commandment to listen, I am able to listen freely. Now that I choose for myself to watch/listen - instead of being told I must - I am able to hear the messages. Granted, I take it in very small, controlled doses, but every now and then throughout the weekend, I turn it on and listen.
Today, being Sunday of General Conference weekend, the sounds of Conference are filling the living room. My father and his wife seem to be soaking it in and loving it. I feel happy for them because they seem to know that their life is this religion. I have never really been able to understand having a religion - any religion, not just Mormonism - as one person's whole life. However, my father has always lived, breathed, ate and walked Mormonism. It is his passion. He loves it and you can see it in him when he talks about it. As I child, I always wanted that for myself. That seemingly undying love, passion and devotion that he displayed for his religion, I wanted to feel that for the Church, too. So I relied on him to give it to me for a long time, then I strived to find it for myself for a long time. I just never landed in it and realized that something that should have been innate, just wasn't for me. It wasn't a fit. Later on in life, I realized that, even more importantly than wanting that love he displayed for the Church to be something I could feel for the Church, I wanted that love he displayed for the Church to be something he displayed for me. Long ago, I made the decision that my father loves his Church far beyond the depths of his love for me. Be that true or false, I do not know, I only know that is a long-ago formed notion that still runs in my veins.
At any rate, today is Sunday and Conference is on. The morning session began just as I got in my car to go to an appointment. I had a half-hour drive to listen to the ultra-masculine voices of the newly-appointed General Authorities and found myself musing about the possiblity that they choose the Authorities by the sound of their voices. They all sound the same to me. They always have. I wondered as I neared the home of my friends if they would be listening to Conference too, being as they are both also officially disassociated with the Church. Indeed, loud and clear on their fairly large television, there it was. General Conference.
He and I had an interesting discussion about the Conference talks and we watched a few minutes together. I noticed the common hand gestures he had mentioned, although I had never taken note of them before. I listened to the perculiar pauses and intonation of the speakers languaging, picking up on the subtle nuances I had never noticed before. I felt myself being lulled, since I was no longer having to be alert enough to drive. I realized in that moment that there was a lot happening that was purposeful - all geared toward getting me to hear exactly what they wanted me to hear.
I felt uncomfortable with the feeling of being pressed upon.
Then we ventured downstairs, closing the basement door behind us. He and I commented about shutting out the truth and walking down the steps to hell. We laughed and I was aware that my old programming was kicking into high gear - it was bad to joke about something such as that, that I definitely was going to hell and my mere presence there (and with what we had planned for today's activities) was truly enough to get me permanently kicked out of heaven.
The sounds of the Tabernacle Choir wafted beneath the door and down the stairs to where I sat, shuffling the Tarot cards he was about to read for me. I spread them on the table, feeling my Reiki energy kick on high - higher than the programs, bright and clear and protective as I looked at the brilliant blue backs of the Voyager deck before me. I slowly scanned the deck with my left hand, searching for the cards that he and I would work with. I became intensely conscious of the dichotomy of the situation. I felt naughty for playing with "cards" - these specific cards, Tarot cards, witchcraft.
"This is hard," I muttered. "With that music behind me, filling my ears and my body here, choosing cards. I feel really torn between what was and what is."
I could hear him thinking, "It is exactly as it is supposed to be." All he did was grin at me. He knew that I knew.
And there, in the basement, we uncovered the missing piece of me that I have been searching for my whole life. The part that I hoped would come from the one place that I had been taught everything came from - The Church - yet, it never did. In our own way, using the Divine Gifts he and I have been blessed with - the very gifts we had both been damned and excluded for within the religion - we found Me and brought me back together again. He helped me bring to light that part of me that was lost, yet still within me, and screaming to be found for most of my life. We unearthed my "what do I do next" and I left feeling more peaceful, more complete, more heard and more understood than I have ever felt.
I decided on the way home that I will take my hedonistic, heathen ways over the conformity any day now.
After 32 years - one year after going through the Temple on my own - I realized that that "thing" was never going to show up and I, finally, stopped trying.
Now, being an ex-member and it no longer being a commandment to listen, I am able to listen freely. Now that I choose for myself to watch/listen - instead of being told I must - I am able to hear the messages. Granted, I take it in very small, controlled doses, but every now and then throughout the weekend, I turn it on and listen.
Today, being Sunday of General Conference weekend, the sounds of Conference are filling the living room. My father and his wife seem to be soaking it in and loving it. I feel happy for them because they seem to know that their life is this religion. I have never really been able to understand having a religion - any religion, not just Mormonism - as one person's whole life. However, my father has always lived, breathed, ate and walked Mormonism. It is his passion. He loves it and you can see it in him when he talks about it. As I child, I always wanted that for myself. That seemingly undying love, passion and devotion that he displayed for his religion, I wanted to feel that for the Church, too. So I relied on him to give it to me for a long time, then I strived to find it for myself for a long time. I just never landed in it and realized that something that should have been innate, just wasn't for me. It wasn't a fit. Later on in life, I realized that, even more importantly than wanting that love he displayed for the Church to be something I could feel for the Church, I wanted that love he displayed for the Church to be something he displayed for me. Long ago, I made the decision that my father loves his Church far beyond the depths of his love for me. Be that true or false, I do not know, I only know that is a long-ago formed notion that still runs in my veins.
At any rate, today is Sunday and Conference is on. The morning session began just as I got in my car to go to an appointment. I had a half-hour drive to listen to the ultra-masculine voices of the newly-appointed General Authorities and found myself musing about the possiblity that they choose the Authorities by the sound of their voices. They all sound the same to me. They always have. I wondered as I neared the home of my friends if they would be listening to Conference too, being as they are both also officially disassociated with the Church. Indeed, loud and clear on their fairly large television, there it was. General Conference.
He and I had an interesting discussion about the Conference talks and we watched a few minutes together. I noticed the common hand gestures he had mentioned, although I had never taken note of them before. I listened to the perculiar pauses and intonation of the speakers languaging, picking up on the subtle nuances I had never noticed before. I felt myself being lulled, since I was no longer having to be alert enough to drive. I realized in that moment that there was a lot happening that was purposeful - all geared toward getting me to hear exactly what they wanted me to hear.
I felt uncomfortable with the feeling of being pressed upon.
Then we ventured downstairs, closing the basement door behind us. He and I commented about shutting out the truth and walking down the steps to hell. We laughed and I was aware that my old programming was kicking into high gear - it was bad to joke about something such as that, that I definitely was going to hell and my mere presence there (and with what we had planned for today's activities) was truly enough to get me permanently kicked out of heaven.
The sounds of the Tabernacle Choir wafted beneath the door and down the stairs to where I sat, shuffling the Tarot cards he was about to read for me. I spread them on the table, feeling my Reiki energy kick on high - higher than the programs, bright and clear and protective as I looked at the brilliant blue backs of the Voyager deck before me. I slowly scanned the deck with my left hand, searching for the cards that he and I would work with. I became intensely conscious of the dichotomy of the situation. I felt naughty for playing with "cards" - these specific cards, Tarot cards, witchcraft.
"This is hard," I muttered. "With that music behind me, filling my ears and my body here, choosing cards. I feel really torn between what was and what is."
I could hear him thinking, "It is exactly as it is supposed to be." All he did was grin at me. He knew that I knew.
And there, in the basement, we uncovered the missing piece of me that I have been searching for my whole life. The part that I hoped would come from the one place that I had been taught everything came from - The Church - yet, it never did. In our own way, using the Divine Gifts he and I have been blessed with - the very gifts we had both been damned and excluded for within the religion - we found Me and brought me back together again. He helped me bring to light that part of me that was lost, yet still within me, and screaming to be found for most of my life. We unearthed my "what do I do next" and I left feeling more peaceful, more complete, more heard and more understood than I have ever felt.
I decided on the way home that I will take my hedonistic, heathen ways over the conformity any day now.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Spaciousness...
It is becoming more evident that I need a new space for my healing business. Like, NOW. I commit to finding a new space in which to move my healing business.
I recently sent out an email to loved ones, putting them on the look out for said space. I have reposted it here so that I could read thru it again (and all ya'all too, if you choose to.) The "cost" has been adjusted from the original email. I would LOVE your ideas, your support, your feedback, your help.
This space is:
Clean
Good size - at least 10' x 10'
Appealing to the eye
In a safe area
Available immediately
This space sounds:
Quiet
Soothing
Peaceful
This space smells:
Crisp
Clean
Holistic
This space feels:
Healthy
Calm
Sacred
This space:
Is so affordable that I am jumping for joy. I am trusting that the Universe will provide the space I need and the clientelle to bring in more than enough money to pay for it.
And, with baby steps, I commit to having more than zero dollars. (Thanks again, T, for that subtle languaging.)
I recently sent out an email to loved ones, putting them on the look out for said space. I have reposted it here so that I could read thru it again (and all ya'all too, if you choose to.) The "cost" has been adjusted from the original email. I would LOVE your ideas, your support, your feedback, your help.
This space is:
Clean
Good size - at least 10' x 10'
Appealing to the eye
In a safe area
Available immediately
This space sounds:
Quiet
Soothing
Peaceful
This space smells:
Crisp
Clean
Holistic
This space feels:
Healthy
Calm
Sacred
This space:
Is so affordable that I am jumping for joy. I am trusting that the Universe will provide the space I need and the clientelle to bring in more than enough money to pay for it.
And, with baby steps, I commit to having more than zero dollars. (Thanks again, T, for that subtle languaging.)
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Time, Space and...
...and... so what would I want more of? Time, Space and Money? Time, Space and Sex? Time, Space and Love? Time, Space and Chocolate?
Or, how about all of the above?
Today I am aware that time has accelerated. I feel an urgency around me, as though I cannot go fast enough to keep up with it all. (Which, on the heels of yesterday's post, that is sorta ironic.) It seems that it (time) is sliding away from me. And space? That is so at a premium these days. My petite guest room feels confining. And here at the office, I am being booted out of my space because Current Boss needs to sublease my half of the office for financial reasons. That means I will be moved over to a not-so-spacious space, crammed in a corner and much too close to his disasterous office of compressed chaos. Then, in the airy space where I am sitting right now, there will be a bitchy primadonna interior designer who thinks his shit doesn't smell, along with his entire staff. (Apparently I am angry about this change.)
The additional personages will take up the entire half of our office space. Good for Boss Man who is rarely here. Uncomfortable for me as I will be here day in and day out having to deal with the prissy ass. Not only that, my healing space office which is on this same side as I currently sit, will be in the middle of all that. Boss Man says, "R has agreed to let you use that room your office is in," with emphasis and snide intonation on the word "let." Yes, he has so kindly agreed to let me use that space. However, I know him well enough to know that he is going to want to lord over my time there and I doubt, highly, that he will respect the need for quiet.
I feel the time rapidly approaching when I leave this place, all together. I am scared about that. I am more scared that I am not willingly doing anything to leave this place. I have a story that there is nothing out there that fits my needs. I feel scared to leave the miserable comfort here. I am angry that I am feeling the necessity to change day jobs and find a new healing space. I feel scared that I will have to pay for my new healing space. At this point, my income doesn't allow for a lot of flex room. If I get a new day job, I have a story that I will lose either my time or money. If I add the expense of a new healing space on top of that, I may lose my head.
I am aware that this post is quite incongruent, whiny and jaggedy. Which, in and of itself is very appropriate as that is how I feel right now.
I want to go back to bed. Things seem so much better with my head under the blankies.
Ye-eah. Right.
Or, how about all of the above?
Today I am aware that time has accelerated. I feel an urgency around me, as though I cannot go fast enough to keep up with it all. (Which, on the heels of yesterday's post, that is sorta ironic.) It seems that it (time) is sliding away from me. And space? That is so at a premium these days. My petite guest room feels confining. And here at the office, I am being booted out of my space because Current Boss needs to sublease my half of the office for financial reasons. That means I will be moved over to a not-so-spacious space, crammed in a corner and much too close to his disasterous office of compressed chaos. Then, in the airy space where I am sitting right now, there will be a bitchy primadonna interior designer who thinks his shit doesn't smell, along with his entire staff. (Apparently I am angry about this change.)
The additional personages will take up the entire half of our office space. Good for Boss Man who is rarely here. Uncomfortable for me as I will be here day in and day out having to deal with the prissy ass. Not only that, my healing space office which is on this same side as I currently sit, will be in the middle of all that. Boss Man says, "R has agreed to let you use that room your office is in," with emphasis and snide intonation on the word "let." Yes, he has so kindly agreed to let me use that space. However, I know him well enough to know that he is going to want to lord over my time there and I doubt, highly, that he will respect the need for quiet.
I feel the time rapidly approaching when I leave this place, all together. I am scared about that. I am more scared that I am not willingly doing anything to leave this place. I have a story that there is nothing out there that fits my needs. I feel scared to leave the miserable comfort here. I am angry that I am feeling the necessity to change day jobs and find a new healing space. I feel scared that I will have to pay for my new healing space. At this point, my income doesn't allow for a lot of flex room. If I get a new day job, I have a story that I will lose either my time or money. If I add the expense of a new healing space on top of that, I may lose my head.
I am aware that this post is quite incongruent, whiny and jaggedy. Which, in and of itself is very appropriate as that is how I feel right now.
I want to go back to bed. Things seem so much better with my head under the blankies.
Ye-eah. Right.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Yay!
And so, it begins. Today is my first NEW (and paying!) client in a long, long time. I feel excited and happy about that and look forward to the abundance that is dancing my way.
That is all...
:)
That is all...
:)
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Commit
On Saturday, in ALC, I asked for support, even though I was absolutely terrified to do so. In front of my friends - about 30 people in all there - I stood in my shit and owned where I am in my life. I am so ready to fly this year. I am so ready to step into my power and be who I am meant to be. I am scared because I have no idea, really, what that means or how it looks. I suspect it means completely severing ties from my former husband/current boss. And I feel sad about that. I have a story that he will feel rejected and abandoned - once again - by me. And while I know I have no control over him or his reactions or emotions - and that the story may simply be that, a story - I feel sad about what that will mean for both of us.
I have spent a lot of time focusing on the good in my job with him. I set my own hours. I go and come as I please. I answer to no one, other than him occasionally. I have my healing space right here in my office space so I am able to take clients throughout the day. I am able to blog and interact through several different e-technology avenues.
On one hand, he wants me to succeed and fly away from here. And, of course, his other hand wants to hold me here because he trusts me and I am a huge part of what he does with this business. And, for the most part, I truly do like it here. There are days that I feel angry and trapped here. There are days when I am subjected to his anger and his frustration about everything other than me. Because we are best friends, ex-spouses, ex-lovers, parenting partners, and sometimes even lovers, and because we have known one another for almost two decades, grown up together and have been witness to one another's development, there are all sorts of funky relationship boundaries that are crossed and uncrossed and confused at times.
Thing is... this is HIS dream. I love being a part of that and seeing him succeed in that. I love supporting him and giving to him to see that it flies. However, do I do that at the sacrafice of my own? I have. AND it is time to stop that now.
So I stood before my friends and implored them to get behind me and support MY dream. I CAN DO THIS! Prior to getting so deathly ill with the Nile, I had a small regular clientelle. They all went POOF! Now I am starting from scratch. Eight regular weekly clients is what I need to leave here. Eight.
Megan asked me, "Angie, are you willing to commit to leaving that place? I am not saying you HAVE to leave it or that you HAVE to leave tomorrow. I am asking you, are you willing to leave?"
I was surprised by the sudden rush of emotions and tears and inability to see straight. My stomach clenched and I felt so scared and sad. I breathed deep and nodded once, announcing, "I feel scared and I am willing to leave that place. I commit to be open to the possibilities of leaving that place. AND I feel scared."
BAM!!!
It was a sound I heard deep inside me somewhere and it echoed out into the Universe in rippling waves.
Come Monday, an email popped in my box from a regular client telling me she was sending me two new clients. This morning there was an email from a stranger who found me, I imagine, through my website. She wants an appointment, as well. Could it be this Saturday, PLEASE, she asked.
I feel excited AND scared AND happy all at once.
WOW! I am really doing this!
I have spent a lot of time focusing on the good in my job with him. I set my own hours. I go and come as I please. I answer to no one, other than him occasionally. I have my healing space right here in my office space so I am able to take clients throughout the day. I am able to blog and interact through several different e-technology avenues.
On one hand, he wants me to succeed and fly away from here. And, of course, his other hand wants to hold me here because he trusts me and I am a huge part of what he does with this business. And, for the most part, I truly do like it here. There are days that I feel angry and trapped here. There are days when I am subjected to his anger and his frustration about everything other than me. Because we are best friends, ex-spouses, ex-lovers, parenting partners, and sometimes even lovers, and because we have known one another for almost two decades, grown up together and have been witness to one another's development, there are all sorts of funky relationship boundaries that are crossed and uncrossed and confused at times.
Thing is... this is HIS dream. I love being a part of that and seeing him succeed in that. I love supporting him and giving to him to see that it flies. However, do I do that at the sacrafice of my own? I have. AND it is time to stop that now.
So I stood before my friends and implored them to get behind me and support MY dream. I CAN DO THIS! Prior to getting so deathly ill with the Nile, I had a small regular clientelle. They all went POOF! Now I am starting from scratch. Eight regular weekly clients is what I need to leave here. Eight.
Megan asked me, "Angie, are you willing to commit to leaving that place? I am not saying you HAVE to leave it or that you HAVE to leave tomorrow. I am asking you, are you willing to leave?"
I was surprised by the sudden rush of emotions and tears and inability to see straight. My stomach clenched and I felt so scared and sad. I breathed deep and nodded once, announcing, "I feel scared and I am willing to leave that place. I commit to be open to the possibilities of leaving that place. AND I feel scared."
BAM!!!
It was a sound I heard deep inside me somewhere and it echoed out into the Universe in rippling waves.
Come Monday, an email popped in my box from a regular client telling me she was sending me two new clients. This morning there was an email from a stranger who found me, I imagine, through my website. She wants an appointment, as well. Could it be this Saturday, PLEASE, she asked.
I feel excited AND scared AND happy all at once.
WOW! I am really doing this!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Slipping Out
My sixteenth year was a big year. I got my driver's license. I started working at a "real" job and found a new boyfriend. I also frequently wrestled with one of my best friends who happened to be a linebacker, a full foot taller than me and four years older.
One day, he picked me up and body slammed me onto the couch, which was an ecstatic place to be, there beneath his beautiful body. I had about a nanosecond to enjoy the pleasure of feeling him atop me before stars filled the ever-deepening blackness in my head and my stomach churned. My skull had come into contact with the corner coffee table in the then-popular over-stuffed modular couches. My occiput (the ridge at the base of your skull) slammed into the solid, wooden edge with a hard enough of a crack that I was certain my head was shortly going to go rolling to the floor.
I didn't want to cry. Big girls don't cry, ya know and they definitely don't cry in front of the man they want to climb into bed with, even if they are only sixteen and have no idea what the hell that means. Instead, when he immediately sat up and helped me up, I laughed a nervous, jittery giggle while rubbing the knot on the back of my head and assuring him, "No, no. Really! I am really okay."
He apologized continually and I smiled lamely, "It's really okay," while consciously leaving my hands in my lap so I wouldn't keep rubbing my head and attracting his attention and apologies. I ignored the nauseau. I ignored the spots in my vision. I ignored the shooting pains.
It caused serious damage down my entire spine, however. It knocked all seven of my cervical vertebrae (neck) critically out of alignment and for a year afterward, I was silent about the excrutiating headaches. Reflexively, it also malaligned my five lumbar (bottom of the spine) vertebrae, especially the last two, which resulted in pain in my hips.
Finally, my parents could see the pain I was in, although they did not know the origin. For years, I went to a chiropractor who whacked and cracked me into place and I found some release.
Fast forward to today...
I have come to understand, now, that physical ailments, illnesses, diseases and, even, injuries are rooted in the emotional, energetic and mental bodies first. As I have grown in my profession, I have become accutely aware of my own body, my energy systems, my thought patterns, my emotional life and how they are all interrelated.
Now, on evermore rare occasions, my lumbar vertebrae will slide out of place. Because my lower spine is weak, it has now involved the sacrum (big triangular bone in your pelvis at the end of your spine) and my ilium (hips). This week is one of those weeks. It starts with stiffness all over my back - I imagine that a weakness has been detected along the spine and the muscles are struggling to hold me erect. And then, I will experience moments when I am unable to stand up with any speed and, once I do get up, I stand crooked. Then, at the most unforeseen and inopportune moment possible, I will reach for the toothpaste and that will be all she wrote. The SI joints (where the sacrum and ilium connect) will pop out, throwing my spine in an obviously, visible jag to the left or right in agonizing, blinding pain that takes away my breath and the inability to walk and breathe at the same time.
As I have gone through my week, I have been aware that my back is speaking to me. Given all that I have experienced over the last couple weeks, it is understandable. The lower back stores the energy of how one feels about "support" - financial and emotional. It goes without saying that my thoughts about "support" in this moment of my life are very weak and it is showing up in my back.
In the deep of the night last night, I yawned. I had no idea that I yawned while I was asleep and the only reason I know that I did was because my right SI joint flipped out of place for an instant and shot pain in every direction, waking me up in the middle of a gaping-jaw yawn. I was dreaming. I recently learned that when one is processing fear, yawning is common and it did not escape my noticing that it had been the yawn which had moved me. The images burned in my eyes. It had been a dream about my former husband.
Shaken, I rolled to the other side, seeking relief. Within an hour, I woke up in the middle of excrutiating pain in the middle of a yawn. This time it was on the left and the dream was about myself.
This morning, I am tired. My back is tight and weak. My neck is stiff and my range of motion is greatly hindered. And I feel scared that I am ignoring some really big things...
One day, he picked me up and body slammed me onto the couch, which was an ecstatic place to be, there beneath his beautiful body. I had about a nanosecond to enjoy the pleasure of feeling him atop me before stars filled the ever-deepening blackness in my head and my stomach churned. My skull had come into contact with the corner coffee table in the then-popular over-stuffed modular couches. My occiput (the ridge at the base of your skull) slammed into the solid, wooden edge with a hard enough of a crack that I was certain my head was shortly going to go rolling to the floor.
I didn't want to cry. Big girls don't cry, ya know and they definitely don't cry in front of the man they want to climb into bed with, even if they are only sixteen and have no idea what the hell that means. Instead, when he immediately sat up and helped me up, I laughed a nervous, jittery giggle while rubbing the knot on the back of my head and assuring him, "No, no. Really! I am really okay."
He apologized continually and I smiled lamely, "It's really okay," while consciously leaving my hands in my lap so I wouldn't keep rubbing my head and attracting his attention and apologies. I ignored the nauseau. I ignored the spots in my vision. I ignored the shooting pains.
It caused serious damage down my entire spine, however. It knocked all seven of my cervical vertebrae (neck) critically out of alignment and for a year afterward, I was silent about the excrutiating headaches. Reflexively, it also malaligned my five lumbar (bottom of the spine) vertebrae, especially the last two, which resulted in pain in my hips.
Finally, my parents could see the pain I was in, although they did not know the origin. For years, I went to a chiropractor who whacked and cracked me into place and I found some release.
Fast forward to today...
I have come to understand, now, that physical ailments, illnesses, diseases and, even, injuries are rooted in the emotional, energetic and mental bodies first. As I have grown in my profession, I have become accutely aware of my own body, my energy systems, my thought patterns, my emotional life and how they are all interrelated.
Now, on evermore rare occasions, my lumbar vertebrae will slide out of place. Because my lower spine is weak, it has now involved the sacrum (big triangular bone in your pelvis at the end of your spine) and my ilium (hips). This week is one of those weeks. It starts with stiffness all over my back - I imagine that a weakness has been detected along the spine and the muscles are struggling to hold me erect. And then, I will experience moments when I am unable to stand up with any speed and, once I do get up, I stand crooked. Then, at the most unforeseen and inopportune moment possible, I will reach for the toothpaste and that will be all she wrote. The SI joints (where the sacrum and ilium connect) will pop out, throwing my spine in an obviously, visible jag to the left or right in agonizing, blinding pain that takes away my breath and the inability to walk and breathe at the same time.
As I have gone through my week, I have been aware that my back is speaking to me. Given all that I have experienced over the last couple weeks, it is understandable. The lower back stores the energy of how one feels about "support" - financial and emotional. It goes without saying that my thoughts about "support" in this moment of my life are very weak and it is showing up in my back.
In the deep of the night last night, I yawned. I had no idea that I yawned while I was asleep and the only reason I know that I did was because my right SI joint flipped out of place for an instant and shot pain in every direction, waking me up in the middle of a gaping-jaw yawn. I was dreaming. I recently learned that when one is processing fear, yawning is common and it did not escape my noticing that it had been the yawn which had moved me. The images burned in my eyes. It had been a dream about my former husband.
Shaken, I rolled to the other side, seeking relief. Within an hour, I woke up in the middle of excrutiating pain in the middle of a yawn. This time it was on the left and the dream was about myself.
This morning, I am tired. My back is tight and weak. My neck is stiff and my range of motion is greatly hindered. And I feel scared that I am ignoring some really big things...
Friday, February 22, 2008
Body Understanding
"Do you listen to your body?"
I stared up at my Reiki Master Teacher from my curled-up position on the futon across the room from her during this morning's session. It was the first question out of her mouth after she closed the door, sealing us in the sacred, safe space for my session.
"I have no idea."
"Do you trust your body?" She asked, looking at me pointedly and giving me the once-over with her all-seeing vision. Instantly, I felt fear and safety concurrently.
"I have no idea."
"Have you asked your body what this morning's violent sickness was about?"
"I blogged about it," I said weakly.
"That isn't your body." She declared. "That is your head. You are letting your head - your ego - run the show. Your body knows the answers. All you have to do is ask and listen."
I wanted to lay down in that very moment and was grateful for her infinite wisdom when she said, I imagine cluing in on my energy body which was very clearly stating there ain't much in here right now, I need rest, "Ang, I'm going to have you get on the table. We aren't going to do any heavy work this morning, no talking, no processing, no thinking, no stories. We are just going to get you on that table and bypass your head. I want to dialogue with your body. Come on. Get up here."
I slunk toward the table, feeling young and small and scared. The table seemed ten feet tall and I felt unsure that I would be able to sling my leg high enough to land safely atop its surface. I did, though and was grateful when she lovingly placed the warm blanket over me. I was suddenly very, very cold. She lined my abdomen with crystals and talked to me in soothing whispers for, what could have been, years. I remember very little of the words she spoke, which is just as it should be. This dialogue was not meant for my head, but for my body.
And when I opened my eyes, she said reassuringly, "Angie, this is the last piece. This is the physical piece that we have been working toward for all this time. You are there, baby. It is time."
I shivered at her words: it is time. She had no idea what that meant to me...
(excerpt from my upcoming book Above the Clouds)
I vomited uncontrollably until the police officers arrived ten minutes later to take down my report so that they could press charges and book Marcus if they ever found him. The criminal mind, however, is a brilliant machine. It can almost always outmaneuver the law. And, Marcus’s cunning was on his side that night. He disappeared into the night, without a trace, even calling me once to taunt that he was on his way to Mexico with our child, “You know I can do it because Mariana’s brothers have connections to the Mexican Underground. You will never see us again!”
I was defeated. And terrified. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling with dry sobs wracking me to the bottom of my soul. Six hours later, when he was sure all signs of police were gone, Marcus returned. He stood on the doorstep, holding my beautiful baby angel in his arms as if they had been out shopping for Christmas presents.
She laughed, reached for me and said, “Momma!” And my world exploded around me at the sight of her. I was so exhausted and drained and lonely and alone and lost.
I settled her beside me in the bed, feeling the reassuring warmth of her gentle breath. She sighed once, smiled into my eyes and drifted off into peaceful oblivion. Tears streamed down my face as I stared into the inky darkness of my bedroom. The emotional toll of that night’s events had taken the last of my reserves. In my heart, there was only devastation. So many broken dreams and squandered hopes.
What in the hell am I going to do?!
I sobbed silently; aching for all that was so not right in my marriage. I cried out to God in a choked whisper, “God, I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if You are there, or if you are listening. I am so alone. I am so afraid. I am so very lonely.”
I cried until there were no more tears and then my body dry-heaved emotions without moisture. Over and over, I silently cried out to God, never really believing that He would answer my prayer and, if He did, that I would actually hear His answer.
Finally, as the first signs of morning pink graced the eastern horizon, I drifted off to sleep and in the quiet stillness of the room, I heard His voice, “Angie, I know you. I hear you. It is time.”
I stared up at my Reiki Master Teacher from my curled-up position on the futon across the room from her during this morning's session. It was the first question out of her mouth after she closed the door, sealing us in the sacred, safe space for my session.
"I have no idea."
"Do you trust your body?" She asked, looking at me pointedly and giving me the once-over with her all-seeing vision. Instantly, I felt fear and safety concurrently.
"I have no idea."
"Have you asked your body what this morning's violent sickness was about?"
"I blogged about it," I said weakly.
"That isn't your body." She declared. "That is your head. You are letting your head - your ego - run the show. Your body knows the answers. All you have to do is ask and listen."
I wanted to lay down in that very moment and was grateful for her infinite wisdom when she said, I imagine cluing in on my energy body which was very clearly stating there ain't much in here right now, I need rest, "Ang, I'm going to have you get on the table. We aren't going to do any heavy work this morning, no talking, no processing, no thinking, no stories. We are just going to get you on that table and bypass your head. I want to dialogue with your body. Come on. Get up here."
I slunk toward the table, feeling young and small and scared. The table seemed ten feet tall and I felt unsure that I would be able to sling my leg high enough to land safely atop its surface. I did, though and was grateful when she lovingly placed the warm blanket over me. I was suddenly very, very cold. She lined my abdomen with crystals and talked to me in soothing whispers for, what could have been, years. I remember very little of the words she spoke, which is just as it should be. This dialogue was not meant for my head, but for my body.
And when I opened my eyes, she said reassuringly, "Angie, this is the last piece. This is the physical piece that we have been working toward for all this time. You are there, baby. It is time."
I shivered at her words: it is time. She had no idea what that meant to me...
(excerpt from my upcoming book Above the Clouds)
***
I vomited uncontrollably until the police officers arrived ten minutes later to take down my report so that they could press charges and book Marcus if they ever found him. The criminal mind, however, is a brilliant machine. It can almost always outmaneuver the law. And, Marcus’s cunning was on his side that night. He disappeared into the night, without a trace, even calling me once to taunt that he was on his way to Mexico with our child, “You know I can do it because Mariana’s brothers have connections to the Mexican Underground. You will never see us again!”
I was defeated. And terrified. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling with dry sobs wracking me to the bottom of my soul. Six hours later, when he was sure all signs of police were gone, Marcus returned. He stood on the doorstep, holding my beautiful baby angel in his arms as if they had been out shopping for Christmas presents.
She laughed, reached for me and said, “Momma!” And my world exploded around me at the sight of her. I was so exhausted and drained and lonely and alone and lost.
I settled her beside me in the bed, feeling the reassuring warmth of her gentle breath. She sighed once, smiled into my eyes and drifted off into peaceful oblivion. Tears streamed down my face as I stared into the inky darkness of my bedroom. The emotional toll of that night’s events had taken the last of my reserves. In my heart, there was only devastation. So many broken dreams and squandered hopes.
What in the hell am I going to do?!
I sobbed silently; aching for all that was so not right in my marriage. I cried out to God in a choked whisper, “God, I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if You are there, or if you are listening. I am so alone. I am so afraid. I am so very lonely.”
I cried until there were no more tears and then my body dry-heaved emotions without moisture. Over and over, I silently cried out to God, never really believing that He would answer my prayer and, if He did, that I would actually hear His answer.
Finally, as the first signs of morning pink graced the eastern horizon, I drifted off to sleep and in the quiet stillness of the room, I heard His voice, “Angie, I know you. I hear you. It is time.”
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