I wrote about inspiration a week ago, and boy did I need to find some.  I don’t normally like to say this, but it’s been a bad couple weeks.  Everything’s relative I guess, no one died, I didn’t find out someone’s deathly ill, but everything just went to blah.  The weather was dreary and wet, and I was hurting on multiple levels.  Even my favorite songs couldn’t lift me up; I needed to dig deeper.

 

It started with slamming my hand in the car door.  BAM!  Great, now I can’t write.  So while blog posts, and plot twists and new stories swirled and jumbled in my head, I couldn’t get them out.  Frustrating!  The pre-holiday rush at work slowed after the New Year started, and then a massive snowstorm took even more hours away from the paycheck that covers the mortgage.  That’s why there’s a savings account, right?  But it still makes me sweat.

 

Friday, February 3rd would have been Dad’s 79th birthday.  He died on May 1st 2010 after a long, slow and painful slide downward.  It was the kind of disease progression that makes you long for the person to die and end the suffering.  And then you feel like a horrible daughter.  You might think that being a mediumistic psychopomp, and able to talk to the dead would give some relief from the grief and sense of loss that his absence makes, but no, it doesn’t.  Even though I know that Dad’s spirit is alive and well, I miss being able to hug him, and hear his voice.  I broke down again last night, while Hub held me close; the void that was Dad’s place in this world still hurting because I couldn’t call and wish him Happy Birthday.

 

It gets better, it gets easier, but sometimes, I just have to cry it out.

 

Then, a miracle happened.

 

I was starting to seriously consider seeing a doctor to fix my hand.  A hard lump that ice and ibuprofen had no effect on, pain, and that whole not able to write thing, had me on the edge of freaking out.  Oh my god!  What if I can’t write anymore?  Yeah, I know, hyperbole, but when you’re having this conversation inside your head, things always seem horribly final.  When I poked and prodded at my hand, testing range of motion and pain, I thought it possible I’d dislocated something, but wanted to give it a little more time.

 

Enter my friend K.  K is a powerful woman in all respects, a businesswoman, singer extraordinaire, and amazing friend.  She grabs my hand, all unknowing of my injury, and squeezes, doubling me over.

 

“Oh my god, what’s wrong, what did I do?”  She was instantly concerned, so I told her what had happened and tried to reassure her.  “You didn’t know; it’s okay.”  I said while trying to calm the waves of pain flowing up my arm.

 

“No, no, no!”  She was insistent.  “I do that!  Why do I always do that?  I seem to have this sense that knows wherever someone is hurt and I grab it.  Why is that?”

 

“You’re a healer, so you’re drawn to where people hurt.”  The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.  K was pleased, like the concept hadn’t occurred to her before.  “Do you really think so?”  I nodded, shaking and flexing my hand, which was no longer throbbing, and we moved on to other topics.

 

Later that night, I ran my thumb over my injury and did not feel the large lump that had been there.  Really?  It can’t be that easy.  It was.  The lump was negligible, the pain almost nonexistent, and…I could write again!  I had to tell K she had fixed my hand, and she was thrilled.  Hmmm.  Will have to check and see if she’d like a Reiki I attunement…

 

These weeks have been a great reminder that life is a rollercoaster, not a flat track.  Exhilarating, funny, and wonderful, but also scary, sad and painful.  I had to remind myself that when the coaster takes you down on a plunge, there will be an upswing on the other side.  But you may have to get up and go looking for it.  Don’t try and deny or repress the sad, it will only eat you up from the inside.  Get it out, let it go, however or whatever that process is for you, and you’ll find the courage to pick up and keep going.  Remember also to be kind to yourself.  There is no time limit on grieving or healing, it is it’s own process, and it’s yours alone.  Take it, own it, and learn from it.

 

Today is a beautiful sunny day.  I’m writing, I have my home, my family, and life is good.  I hope that you are all doing well.  Drop me a line and tell me about it!

 

Pictures taken by and under copyright to me.  Please ask permission before use.  Thank you!

23 Responses

  1. Glad things are looking up! Very cool story about your healer friend! She should check into that, see if she can develop her gift consciously. Sorry about your dad, you never stop missing those you love. My grandparents died over 30 years ago and I still miss them very much. It’s easier to deal with but it doesn’t make me stop missing them. I do get little signs from them every now and then to let me know they aren’t really gone. Glad the hand is better! Thanks for sharing your inspirational story. Blessings.

  2. Great post. I’ve been helped by some wonderful Reiki masters over the years, it really is a marvelous technique. And think of it this way, maybe your hand needed to be given a good shock, so now the writing may be different, let us know how it turns out.

  3. Hi Serena, that was a lovely post, so glad I had a chance to read it. Ireland is really beautiful right now in this cold weather so life is good. Who knows? Maybe we’ll even get some snow.

  4. Yay Serena!!! Way to find your way back girl!! My heart breaks for your hurt and rejoices in your upswing. Totally awesome that your friend has that kind of intuitive healing energy/practice. Your post gives me hope that when I’m on the nasty plunge down on my roller coaster that the upswing is ahead even if I have to flinstone my car to get there faster.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.