Curious father cannot believe what his kind-hearted son does in his spare time


Letting go (Heaven Help Me)

Recently I was feeling some serious blockage of energy around my heart (chest pains), my lungs (heaviness when I breathe), and my central chakra there (I couldn’t see it clearly). I’ve been working on it, albeit somewhat slowly, but concerned that I couldn’t quite “feel” my way through any of it.

When someone brushed over the throat and heart chakra/centers I felt a wonderous relief and a sense of opening, yet it was brief and I could still feel this lingering darkness.

It wasn’t simply a haunting spirit, a demon, a pain from eating the wrong foods, or an infection.

Yesterday after a long and involved therapy session, I realized..

It was me.

For all of my work on letting go, on forgiveness, on opening up and loving further, deeper. I’m really, really, REALLY angry. Yes, I felt the energy of a few specific people lingering with me, but it was my anger towards their actions, their behaviors, their words, that I’ve been holding on to.

And I could feel it yesterday while laying back, gently probing the sense of darkness. And I knew what it was laying there in my heart. It wasn’t just angry adult me, mad at terrible drivers or people being cruel or whatever. It was the younger me, furious at the world, at the people around me.

Today I woke up with a sensation, that was almost depressed. But it wasn’t “just” that. I let myself fall back asleep, briefly, curled up on the couch. I didn’t push my errands to happen, I didn’t stress that the books aren’t back at the library or the shopping for my trip isn’t done.

I just let myself be.

Ripples in the Pond

Today, as I sit listening to the wonderful sounds of music on my player, I wonder if we’ll ever know just how much the little things made the biggest differences in someones life.

Listening to Patti Griffin can bring me joy, comfort, and to tears of sorrow and such depth of emotion, one I rarely find myself in recently. And I recall the friend that brought me to her, Jennifer, do you know how important you were? How this one (among many) gift you brought in to my life has echoed over these past 12 years?

Does Darcy know how her enjoyment of Enya (albeit played at a level much higher than was reasonable to us neighbors downstairs) helped to bring this music in to heal me? For some 20 years now…

Does my grandmother quite understand how The Secret Garden saved me as a child? How I would hide away from the pain in the garden, growing, learning, lost in my own secret paradise.

How a trip with a friend to Tokyo could leave me at such peace, utterly lost in a world not my own, yet so at home anywhere I went.

That hypnotherapy with my great aunt, once, has left me with a grove of flowering cherry trees to visit in meditation, dreams, day dreams, any moment I needed safety and calm.

That a conversation between this same aunt and her friend could leave me afraid to share my own gifts in a way that would request any compensation. And lead me to question and ponder how we share our gifts with the world.

How driving up to the last house on a list, in a funky neighborhood, tired and frustrated at the lack of reasonable rentals, could lead me to a little black cat, and an amazingly bright, loving soul, that would change me forever, who would heal me and love me so completely.

How from one afternoon, my friend sittingĀ in an AOL chat room, could bring me to my friend, partner, husband of nearly 20 years. One sentence from her, and I knew someone special had entered my life. Did she understand this ripple at all?

How firing me from a job, as a waitress in a strip club, could take me down the path of office work instead, of HR management, Business administration, from doctors offices, lawyers, to Microsoft, and Amazon, to my own businesses now… what if she hadn’t fired me that day?

Even the seemingly bad moments, led me to some amazing, beautiful memories. Perhaps I would never have been able to grasp the love, the light, the joy in my life without the darkness in it too.

That through the pain, we aren’t just damaged, or broken; we are in fact lifted up, brought to another plane of existence. We are stronger, more capable, aware, and alive, because those ripples of sorrow, of grief, despair, depression and rage, found their way in to our path.

I wonder how it would be, if we realized how powerful our own ripples were. How they transform the world, not just ours, but of others, in ways we may never, ever, see or know of.

Veronica Yem

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