Where anger and frustration and sadness resided, I needed to find a way to make room for love. I needed to care for her like I would any other human and to remove my expectations of what was and what will be.
Three days ago, I could comprehend the words but couldn’t imagine feeling the shift…certainly not this soon. But that’s the beauty of the Shamans. The energetic and emotional release is so intense that when it’s gone, it’s just gone.
Each time it happens, I’m still surprised. Sometimes I’ll even search out a trigger to see what happens…and every time…nothing. The work with them is real and it lasts. It’s so much more than logically understanding why something shouldn’t bother me. It’s actually feeling the release and the healing of the wound.
Three days ago I was crying my eyes out over a lost friendship. Today, my heart feels whole again. The anger is gone and in its place is a calmness…a wholeness…perspective.
The perspective I’ve gained is a direct reflection of the healing. I’m able to appreciate the memories of the friendship but I’m no longer pining to make more. I’m able to see the value in what we brought to each other over the years but I’m not reliant on her to increase my current worth.
I can’t explain it…but oh the relief. I wasn’t able to fully grasp how much of an impact this wound was having on my life until it healed. I was spending so much mental energy trying to understand something that was never going to make sense that I locked the pain in my body. Feeling it over and over and over again…like picking a scab and wondering why it won’t stop bleeding.
I told the Shamans it was like grieving the death of someone would just wouldn’t let go. Each day making peace with their passing while they continued to hang on…so every day was a constant attempt to let go with the other person hung to life. It was madness.
In my bones, I know that this pain wouldn’t have dissipated through counseling or therapy or just waiting it out. It was so deep…so ingrained in my being…that it needed the help of the Shamans to talk me through it and witness my pain. To hold the space necessary for me to release it and let it go.
When I went to the Shamans on Sunday, I had no idea what I wanted to talk to them about…until I started talking. It seems to work like that a lot. Sort of like journaling or blogging. Sometimes I have no idea what I’m going to write until I just start doing it. And every time, without fail, I feel a million times better afterward.