Tuesday, April 19, 2011
It was a prayer group who also did energy work for each other. It was a very special time. Most of them young med students who dabbled in esoteric things on the side. It was all kept very hush hush because it was private, personal, and individual. I was invited because I have always been a fan of reaching out in love and I love (non-dogmatic/non-zealoty religious expressions of prayer and faith of all kinds). Also- energy work of any kind (tai-chi, reiki, pranic, yoga etc) are all forms of love. After the prayer meeting, we'd offer energy and healing to each other - the idea was each person was to work on another for 30 minutes then we'd switch. We went around the room touching each other with our own specific healing modality. I have always been involved in reiki. Others used their own jazz.
When it was my turn to receive healing the man who was using his hands to heal looked at me and instead of energy healing he sat down on the floor pulled me down with him and cradeled me for 30 minutes in his arms like a child. At the time I was in a sexless marriage (for insurance and safety)... but my body CRAVED touch. He didn't know. NO ONE KNEW. But God knew. This man's intuition knew.
In that moment the world opened and I was given EXACTLY what I needed. It refilled my entire core and I heard God make a promise to me: "Melissa- you will ALWAYS have what you need - I will always give you what you need."
That promise kept me through some of the most difficult times of my life. And while I talk neither of religion and prayer here nor of my PERSONAL healing practices like meditation and tai chi and yoga, they too sustain me.
Yesterday, as I sat with friends over a fire, I realize all this time in Ohio may well be God, holding me in an embrace. I'm still in it and haven't realized yet that I'm scooped up being taken care of getting what I NEED.
As I reflected on the kinds of men I love the most I realized - It is always similiar what I find the most attractive. They are the ones I call, "Volvos"... reliable, wear well over time, they take care of their family. They are "servants" to their friends and family, often to all. Even when it is frustrating or annoying they take care and love and are dutiful. They are usually religious or at least open to multiple world views. They always want family and believe in marriage or committed partnership in some way.
Some have awakened me the way spring rains and sun wake bulbs to poke through snow I'm coming out of my deep pain and deep hibernation. I'm starting to WANT to date again.
As I was praying about it I heard a voice resonating -
"What are you willing to give up to have this Melissa?"
I searched for the answer - pride? not the right answer... arrogance... no... FEAR!
I replied to God - "FEAR. I am willing to give up fear."
And I heard in reply something strange yet comforting. "Well chosen. It has served you well. And it is time for something new."
And instead of fear, I felt surrounded by a blanket of love.
I was amazed that God would tell me that my fear has served me. But these last years I have avoided dating. I have protected my heart. I have not looked for love and I have not had sex. I have been HEALING those parts of me. I felt no judgement. Fear served me temporarily. And now it is time for something new.
Who knows. But I do know that being the "lonely single woman" at places is worth it. I will not meet "my ideal" mate by staying home. I will not meet this person in locations that I'm not attracted to.
Tonight, doing improv rehearsal with people I know and love I was healed again. These are people who are attracted to the light as me. We live in love, we laugh, we see that even if we fuck up, we pull through it. We use everything, even the bad. We have opinions, we have LIFE.
By accepting that in Ohio, I may be sitting in God's embrace, I am giving myself space to heal... it is not FOREVER that I am in a situation I do not want. I have time to finish my writing. I am pulling my health together. And I'm looking with new eyes and more gratitude at the experiences I'm being granted this week. Not one agoraphobic moment. I've been too busy to fear. Too full of joy to worry.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.