3 weeks since I last went for my healing combined therapy.
It wasn’t suppose to be this long, but life came in between. Relatives visiting and those type of things. Even now I even overslept…2 whole hours…rescheduled and went 3 hours later.
It was good energy to work with this day she said.
To be on the safe side I arrived 15 min too early and had to sit outside and wait.
From being a very closed person I have cracked. The right word and it takes 5 minutes to have me sit there in all my…let’s be civilized and call it…pain.
This time we talk about shame. The shame of being rejected. Of experience abandonment. The shame of knowing your parent is wrong and you are powerless to do anything about it.
We talk about truth. Betrayal. Distrust. The inner child. The pure innocence we all once were.
As I am suppose to offer comfort to this little girl I feel helpless, unworthy somehow. Who am I to comfort and protect her.
I don’t know if it is her not wanting to be hugged, or me being too uncomfortable to reach out, we silently agree to just sit beside each other. A feeling of complete overwhelm flows over through me. Am I really equipped to take care of her?
I see her innocence and the strength in her purity. It is admirable actually.
We hold hands.
To my surprise it gives me peace and support. All that I wished to give her she is giving me.
I am the weak one.
That is all that is needed – that hand holding me – and that old wise soul looking up at me.
It holds no doubt, no uncertainty – no shame.
Only love, joy and with a shy smile… happiness.
I breathe. I drive home. I fall asleep at my desk.
I wake up early without an alarm. There is a strange peace.
I survived staying in that feeling since my early childhood. The feeling that has tormented me my whole life. Been the shadow behind every act and every decision.
The feeling that drove me almost to subconsciously rather kill myself…
I am saved by my own bell.
I am coming home.
301 signals to go.