Tag Archives: healing.

A Lesson from a Zen Master

Posted on by learning to live like water

I get an email regularly, maybe daily, from a site called the “Wild Divine”.  Today there was a link to a Zen meditation, which I clicked on to use for my daily meditation.  It was a guided meditation, by a zen master.  I was soothed by his voice, and found myself in a pliable state, non-resistant to his suggestion that our most important task is to enjoy life.

Here’s the link for anyone who’s interested:

That’s something I’ve forgotten, in all my angst over unrequited love lately.  I think that this weekend, without S, I will just endeavor to enjoy my life.  And why should I not?  I’ll take care of my house, which should be a labor of love, since I love my home.  Gonna do things I’ve been putting off for no good reason.  I thought about going to the gym, but instead might go walking with a friend, on an old train track in town.  I might write, I think I might actually work on the book, which I have ignored now for way too long.  I have the fixings to make so much jewelry that lays unused.

I’ll channel the passion I have had for S into my life, and have a passion for it instead.  I won’t not love S, I will just find things to do so I am not spending my time wishing for what I can’t have.  That’s a waste of time isn’t it?  Once you know, you know.  So I have spent some time grieving it, and I’m not saying I won’t spend more, but I won’t lose myself in the grief.

You gotta honor your feelings.  So…I can honor the grief, the loss, the sorrow. But I can’t move in and pay rent to stay there.  It’s good to know that I’ll be ok.  I’m glad that I have done the work that has given me the resources to find a way through this.

The Fog of Confusion

Posted on by learning to live like water
“Confusion is the hallmark of a transition. To rebuild both your inner and outer world is a major project.”
 – Anne Grant
I am confused this morning.  I have met a man…who is kind, considerate, loving, and wants to be with me.  I like him…a lot.  I have spent a lot of time with him this past week.  But when I lay my head on the pillow last night, I was missing S, and wishing so much that he could have cared for me that way.  And then feeling stupid for not appreciating momentarily what was, and wanting what wasn’t, and will never be.
It came from the fact that S called me and left me a voice mail asking me to talk to him yesterday.  I answered him, by email, and told him I would unblock the email, because I know he had things to say.  But I couldn’t see him or talk to him.
Why?  Why can’t I see him or talk to him?  Because what he did, fucking the prison whore, still hurts me.  I cannot hear his voice, even in a voice mail, without feeling that knife cutting my heart open again.  I could never look into his blue eyes, without melting down in pain.
I know I have to let go of the man, I have let go a great deal.  But of course, he still wants to see me.  He isn’t going to write what he has to say.  I don’t really want to hear what he has to say.  I don’t want him now, when he’s acted to destroy what I thought was something special, to tell me nice things.  He tells me he has nothing bad to say, and that he’ll make me smile.
I don’t want him to make me smile now.  I want him to disappear, so I can forget him, so I can fully appreciate the new man in my life.  The one who wants me, who would never hurt me, who strives to make me happy.
S told me he “needs this” and that I “owe” him.  I told him I owe him nothing.  How could I possibly owe him?  I loved him, while he refused to love me, or admit it.  He fucked the prison whore, not me.  What do I owe him?  He has already taken far more from me than he has given.  He owes me, the peace of mind that I ask for, to leave me alone, to let me go on and forget about him.  To give me enough time for the affection I feel for him to fade.
Confused.  I hope I don’t blow this new opportunity, wishing the past was different than it was.  Stupid, just stupid of me. Maybe it’s just another layer that I need to sit with.  I don’t know.  Confused.
Gonna put on the fog lights and find my way out of this.

Getting Through Betrayal, A Personal Story

Posted on by learning to live like water

When my friend from Canada sent me Reiki, she told me I gotta let the anger fire burn out.  She said it was a purification fire, and that I couldn’t deal with the hurt and pain until the fire was done burning.

What I’ve learned is that the anger, and subsequent pain, are like concentric circles.  There is the outer wave of anger, the initial one, when you find out about the betrayal.  You rage, you scream.  You want to hit something.  Your anger is visceral, it comes from so deep within you, you didn’t think you were capable of that much anger.

And then it subsides, amazingly.  You don’t know if you’re not angry anymore, or sick of being angry, or just numb.  In between each circle is a no-man’s land, a neutral space, where you have a moment to try to collect yourself.  It might last a few hours, or a few days.  But it doesn’t last.

Then you deal with the furthest out circle of pain.  You might wake up in pain.  You might lay down in your bed, and feel the knot in your stomach unravel and release the flood of tears. You might just be sitting on the couch with the tv on some show you are not watching, and the anguished cries just come from somewhere in your chest, unbidden.   You cry.  You sob, in giant heaves, that wrack your body.  You can’t sleep.  Every single thing that happens to you makes you think of him.  And that makes you think of what he did, oblivious to what it would do to you.  You think of his hands on someone else, you think about them being intimate, the way you were, and you sob again and again.  You try to numb yourself somehow so you won’t keep seeing it, feeling it.  You might drink 4 large glasses of wine that first night, you might take a sleeping pill and still barely sleep.  You can’t talk about it in this phase, you can’t even say what he did to you.  To name it is to make it real, to give it form.  You cannot.  You can’t tell anyone, you can’t say out loud what he did.

Then whenever you have sat with that for long enough you find yourself back in that thin line of the neutral place between the circles.  You think you might be ok, You realize you will live.  It will be painful, you think, but you can get out of bed, you can go to work, you can take care of things that need taking care of.  When you go to bed, it’s the hardest to face.  In bed alone, remembering what it felt like when wrapped his arms around you, when he woke you in the middle of the night.  But you know you can’t share him.  So you take the pain, you feel the pain, you live with the pain.  And thankfully it dulls over time.  In the meantime, you purge him from your life.  You don’t want to look at any corner of your life and be reminded of what was, and what wasn’t.

This cycle happens a number of times.  You are angry, then hurt, then angry, then hurt.  You want answers.  You want to know why.  You want to know how he could say he cares, and then do this.  Not getting answers angers you.  Then it hurts you.  Each time the level of hurt is a little less.  Because he has no answers  You have to deal with it alone, and you are beginning to get sick of it.  Sick of having your head spin.  Sick of wondering what was really going on between you and he, sick of trying to understand.

You might talk to him, over and over.  You might want to be with him so bad, you do it.  You don’t think you can stop the pain if you don’t.  You see him, you are with him, you have some relief from the pain, but then you realize you are just setting yourself up to go through this all over again.  That thought is terrifying. So you slow down on the talking.  You don’t allow the flirting anymore, it’s like a knife cutting the wound open again.  You tell him…he might stop.  He might get mad.  He might not understand why you came to him, and then were done with him.  It gets ugly, then it gets better, but it’s a downward trend.  Pretty soon, it’s just ugly.  You stop talking altogether.

It’s ok, you think.  I’ll get over this, I’ll move on.  And it is.  For awhile.  For a day, for a week, it’s ok.  Then one night you’re driving home and you miss him.  Geezus you think, why am I missing  him???  But you are.  You imagine calling him.  You imagine him calling you.  Or showing up at your house unexpectedly.  But every time, now, you imagine it ends badly.  You never imagine that it ends well.  How can it end well?  How can you undo what has been done?  You can’t.  So  you know…you can’t go back there.  And he can’t tell you why he did it.  He cant tell you why he was willing to devastate you.  So you know that eventually, until he can speak to those things, that being with him just sets you up to repeat it.

You have to sit with your sadness.  Again.  And again.  Then your anger.  Again and again.  Until you are finally in that circle in the center.  The one that is so small that you can’t stay in it for too long.

You get asked out on a date.  You accept.  You try to look forward to it.  You DO look forward to it.  The man is nice, kind, he opens the doors for you, helps you with your coat.  He is easy-going, not pushing any agenda, just enjoys your company.  Somewhere in your head something nags at you, because it won’t be with him.  You tell the nagging to shut up, because he will only hurt you again.

Unbelievably, the nagging shuts up.

So, you sit with your sadness, until it has dissipated.  Until your soul emerges, and you begin to remember who you were before.  Before him, before the betrayal, before your world was turned upside down.

The sun comes out, you focus on your new life.  All the possibilities.  You would like to say goodbye to him, but you don’t want to start anything up.  You want to say, I’m ok.  You want him to know you’re ok, that he didn’t kill you, even though you thought for awhile he did.  You know that the possibilities are endless.  Life is  good again.

Insomnia, Struggles, and Strength

Posted on by learning to live like water

Last night I kinda wanted to stay up and watch the Oscars. I didn’t watch them for years, but have tried to the last couple of years. Partly just to see the dresses, lol. Partly to figure out what movies are worth seeing.

But, after vacuuming the house, doing laundry, swiffering the floors, cleaning off my kitchen counters, cleaning bathrooms,making a snack for my new book club that has it’s first meeting here tomorrow, making a full dinner for my son and I, which is rare these days, I couldn’t keep my eyes open past 9:30.

So, I headed for bed, and was sound asleep by 10. I woke up at midnight, with a start. I realized I was angry. Angry at S for Saturday’s conversation, which didn’t need to take place. It changed nothing except to strengthen my resolve. I was angry that he couldn’t just let it be, that he had to question me as if I was the one who had sex with a stranger. Anger that he seemed to think I owed it to him to tell him that I was going out on a date AFTER his betrayal of me. As I explained to him, he threw the boulder in the pond. Everything that happen­ed after that was just what rippled out and washed up on the shore. In the words of Elizabeth Gilbert in a post she had on FB, I told him to “Own your shit S. It’s all yours, every bit of this.” Angry at myself for making poor choices, when the truth was staring me in the face.

That conversation took place on Saturday, by text, and culminated in me blocking him and I’m pretty sure I will never unblock him. I was fine Saturday night. And really, for awhile now I have thought I was past the anger. But there it was, in the middle of the night, Sunday night.

I tried all the tricks that usually work.  I tried meditation, I tried reading. I tried going on FB on my phone, I got up and took a Unisom. I lay there, and realized my stomach was upset. Solar Plexus chakra. I’m a reiki master. So I know that’s where we store our emotions. I immediately switched my meditation music and did self-reiki, focusing on the solar plexus. After about 10 or 15 minutes I felt the emotion move down to my lower chakras, and my stomach no longer hurt. But I still wasn’t sleeping. I finally dozed off to the meditation music for a little while. But I’m not sure I dozed.

When I regained consciousness, I remembered this vision. Was it a dream? I don’t know. I was standing looking upward. I held out one hand, reaching up,

and in that hand was a green ball, about the size of an old glass fishing float, if you’ve ever seen one. Maybe 6” in diameter. It was green but clear, hollow, which I guess is why I thought of the old fishing floats. In it was all my anger, and pain, and any other negative emotion I had at the time. And I was offering it up, to the universe, to take from me.

It wasn’t like I was asking. It was like the universe was offering. “Give it to me, let it go,” it was saying. Gently, sweetly, lovingly. “Surrender. Let it go.” I began to say out loud, “God is great” And then began chanting the silent mantra “So Hum.” I am. I am loveable. I am beautiful. I am happy. I am healthy. I am strong.

And so at about 4:15 I fell sound asleep, for 3 hours.

And today, I’m not angry at him. I’m indifferent. I don’t care. I’m not as angry at myself. I think it is the hardest to forgive ourselves. I knew better, but ignored it. But that’s where I was at the time. I wanted to be in love and love this man, so I did, even though he told me not to, even though my friends told me not to, my son told me not to. I wanted to.

And now I don’t. I don’t really even want to know him. Now I see who he really is, unclouded by eyes that have not seen a man care for them in a decade. Back facing reality. And quite content to be doing so, really.

I guess the anger, the pain, is still in layers there. I am peeling them away. I guess last night’s insomnia got a few of them peeled away.

In the dark of the night, in my lovely bed, I faced some truth and came through some dark ugly stuff. Stuff, truth I had to face about myself. In the end, I was more disgusted with S than angry. I was more angry with myself. And disgusted.

Healing. Not an easy road. But as they say, I’m grateful for my struggles. Because without them I wouldn’t have stumbled upon my strength.

Winding Down

Posted on by learning to live like water

Ah. Winding down. Friday night. Was supposed to go to a gong bath, but they canceled it. It’s rare that they ever cancel one, but it’s about 5° out, wind chill in the ungodly sub-zero’s. Which would mean all the equipment would have to be hauled out and loaded in the truck, and then unloaded at the church, then reloaded after. 8 gongs, and their stands and the bowls and the drums, and hell, I wouldn’t want to do it either.

But dang I was looking forward to it. At last weeks gong bath, I was able to begin to really process all my emotions regarding S. I had not been to a gong bath since “it” happened. Funny it seems ages ago, but it’s only been about a month I guess. Maybe 5 weeks. Seems so much longer. But in the end, I knew the road I had to travel. So I was looking forward to this week, to continuing this journey, to finding my center even more clearly defined.

It has been difficult for me, and for him. For different reasons. For me, because even though I knew I needed to break it off, that it was not healthy for me to be prolonging the final ending of this relationship, I still loved the guy, I had pretty deep feelings, I missed him like crazy, I wanted his energy around me. Didn’t want to let go. Still wish I hadn’t had to, completely.

For him…idk. I can’t really speak for him. I know he enjoyed flirting with me, I know he enjoyed our intimate conversations, I know he enjoyed my fearless outspokenness. We both enjoyed the other’s honesty. I know he enjoyed our physical relationship, and so did I and we will both miss that.

But you know, it needed to grow, to evolve. It was time. I was all for the evolution of it. He was not. So he did what he did in large part, to end it rather than evolve with me. And even then…he did not end it right away. But now…I see…it’s ended. It went round about. My emotions went up and down and on and off, until the gong bath last week, when they pretty much went to the off side. We talked, since. But when he began his flirting with heavy sexual content, I asked him to stop. And again. And again.

Because I don’t want to go there again. And really…it still hurts me, to think about what happened. Maybe some day I can joke about it. But now, right now, it is still raw. I wanted the evolution. I didn’t want the break-up. It hurts still.

I wonder why someone would want to stay in the same place…especially at this age. Why would you want to grow old alone? Face all your nights alone, and with whatever advanced age brings you. Why would you not want to be with someone who understands you, gets you, loves you, enjoys you, someone who will sit with you through your pain, and celebrate with you your triumphs. Why not be with someone with whom you can learn to play each other’s bodies like a fine instrument?

A one night stand will never get you those things. Strange will always be strange. It will never be comfortable, close, loving. It might be exciting for a few minutes. A partner can be exciting forever.

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

But…I do accept it. I accept that S doesn’t see it the same way, and he needs to follow his heart, like I told him. And I need to follow mine. I accept that he doesn’t want to talk to me, or be part of my life in another capacity. At least, at the moment. I accept that our roads have diverged. I’m not crying over it. I’m really ok with it. I have no regrets.

I went on a date last night, with a man a bit older than me. On paper we had a lot in common. Creative, love the water, boats, cruising. But there were no sparks. We met for coffee. Then he invited me to dinner. We talked, it was interesting, pleasant, but there won’t be another date.

No connection. With S…there was connection before we even met. I guess that’s why I couldn’t quite envision not having him in my life at all. But whatever, it’s not my call. I made my position quite clear, in my never to be subtle way, that I wanted him in my life, but that we needed to redefine our relationship, set new parameters. He was not so clear, but his actions said he only wanted it as it was.

I have to remember that all relationships are fluid, constantly moving, changing. We are all moving like water, in our own way, around obstacles, over the rough spots smoothing them out, breaking through the dams of our emotions. Who knows what’s next for any of us?

Just, livin’ like water. Getting back to source.

I’m in Charge Now

Posted on by learning to live like water

I do this thing, twice a month, known as a gong meditation. I have been going to them for about 5 years. They crossed my path in during my divorce, which was then in its third year. I was waiting for a date when the Supreme Court of my state would hear my case.

They used to hold the gong meditation at the gym I attended. My friend and I were leaving one Sunday afternoon and they were setting it up in the room where they hold classes like pilates and zumba. We wandered in and the group of people setting them up came over and greeted us. We asked about it.

It is a meditation experience. It lasts from 1 to 2 hours. You lay on the floor, on something comfy, and they play gongs, crystal bowls, tibetan bowls, various drums, rainsticks, bells. The sound can become very intense, it can fill the room like a glass fills with water, and then it can become very quiet. The intense sound we call Tsunami’s. It is so loud that you can scream, or sob and no one will be the wiser. But it can’t hurt your ears. I don’t know why….I think because of the vibrations being so organic.

The point of it is this. The gongs vibrate at the same rate as the human body. They don’t go around you, like many vibrations. They go through you. And they do their magic, where it is needed. Any thought, or belief you are holding onto that is not based in reality has very little chance of holding on during a tsunami. It is the perfect, safe environment to let your emotions bubble up, and let things go. I have done more healing there than any other single place.

Sometimes they are profound experiences. One night, I found myself in front of a wall made of cinderblocks. In each hole in the cinderblock was a piece of paper. And on the paper was written a reason, explaining why that particular block was put in the wall. Every slight, every hurtful comment, every lie, and manipulation, very injustice ever laid upon me, had its place in the wall. It was a wall I had built, purposefully, during my marriage, and the divorce. The wall was meant to keep anyone from hurting me again.

And it worked. I was able to extract myself from that abusive marriage. I was able to keep my wits about me, and help my son to escape it also. I was able to testify during my trial for a day and a half, and keep my head, not be emotional, and tell my story. And to sit in the auspicious Supreme Court as the justices questioned my attorney and my ex’s. And to know, by the questions that were asked, that I would win.

But that night, I realized that the wall had served its purpose, and that now……instead of keeping hurt out, it was keeping me a prisoner behind it. No one could hurt me anymore,but no one could reach me either. It was time to take the wall down. I began to take it down, one block by one block. I don’t know that it is completely down today….but would have to say, by and large the anger and pain I was holding onto in that wall has been forgiven and put behind me.

Another night, I saw my ex and I flying around. I had been struggling with letting go, of him, and all the dreams, and plans of a 32 year marriage, a 40 year relationship. We flew around, we waved to each other. “Good luck, have a nice life! Maybe I’ll see you, and maybe I won’t”, we called to each other. And then I flew in one direction, he in another, and we were alone, without each other, and happy, and I had let him go.

Another night, I saw myself, lying on the floor. And four entities, I don’t know what they were, were hovering over me. Protecting me. From what I am not sure, but I’m sure they knew, and that I needed them. When it was over, as I lay there trying to work my way back to the room I was in, out of the meditative state, the facilitators who are good friends of mine by now, began to talk about how the gongs can thin the veil, and allow spirits into the room. They knew nothing of my experience but I knew that it was verification of what I saw hovering over me.

Tonight I went. I didn’t know what I wanted to work on. The man who hurt me so badly by having sex with the stranger was on my mind, a lot. I have been talking to him. I miss him, his funny intelligent self-deprecating nature. I have always enjoyed his company. But I am full of mixed emotions. First it was rage, then pain, and now, it’s mostly fear. He has been in the hospital the last 2 days, having surgery to repair a hernia operation. I have offered to do whatever he needs done. I try to remember that I don’t have to like someone to show compassion. Of course….I do like him. A lot. So that part is easy. But I am scared shitless of being hurt again. So, fear. I have lots of it.

I went into the gong bath, as we call it. Bathing in the vibrations of the gongs….There are 8 gongs. I had the intention just to try to get deep enough to sort out my emotions regarding this man, what he did, and our relationship, where it should go from here. Love. First of all. Love. I think I love him, in more than the unconditional way. But so what? If I am subject to being hurt like that again. Then I remembered the rage…I remembered it, but didn’t feel it. I have let that fire burn out. The hurt, well….I still feel it, though it is not nearly so raw these days.

But my solar plexus and my sacral chakras both felt like there was a ball of something unpleasant in them. Fear. My heart wants to love this man, my head tells me I’m a fool. I am much more inclined to follow my heart than my head. But my gut…well,not happy with any of it. Fear.

I heard Elizabeth Gilbert talk the other day, about how when she was in India on her Pray part of her Eat, Pray, Love journey, she went to an island by herself for 10 days, and battled with all the voices in her head. Crying, screaming. She told them all, guilt, shame, pain, anger, love, joy, “look, we all have to find a way to work together. So from now on….I’m in the drivers seat. I love you all, you are all a part of me. You all have a place in me. But I’m in charge now.”

And that’s where I was at the end of the meditation tonight. Fear, hurt, anger, love, shame, …listen you all. I’m in charge now. The fear will keep me cautious. The love will keep me compassionate. The hurt and anger and shame….will remind me not to become too vulnerable to someone who has not earned my trust. Maybe he can earn my trust back, maybe he doesn’t really want to. It remains to be seen. But……

I’m in charge now.

Crack the Door, Crack the Mirror. Spread a LIttle Light.

Posted on by learning to live like water

I have heard it said, from so many great spiritual teachers, that when we rage at someone, we are only raging at ourselves. That we see in the other person, that which we dislike about ourselves. Or that which we fear in ourselves.

I have done this myself. Gotten so angry at someone, because I read into their words something they didn’t mean to say. I have answered questions that weren’t asked, and not answered the one that was, because I projected, based on my own demons or ego, what I thought they really wanted to know.

And people have done that to me. They have taken my good intentions and twisted them into something ugly. They have inserted their own guilt, or fear, into what I say to make it mean something hurtful to them. And raged at me for it

Generally speaking, when one person rages at another, I am pretty sure it usually ends up with two egos battling, and two people angry with each other. A ruptured relationship. I am guilty of this, as I have defended myself against the untrue projections. And people have defended themselves to me, against my false accusations.

Imagine, for example, you offer your help to someone who asks, but at the same time, lay down boundaries which are necessary for you to maintain your equilibrium. The person, who had other ideas about the form your help would take, becomes angry at your boundaries, and interprets them as being put there to hurt them. While in reality, they are put there for your own safety, so you can continue on with your life while helping them.

This happened to me…..which obviously I am trying to work out by writing this essay.

It got ugly….there are more details in my last blog. But the fact is, 4 or 5 days later, I am still concerned about this person. I blocked him on my phone, on my email. Because of the ugliness. But I began to worry, about the ordeal he faces, and just wanted to know he was ok, with what he had to do, with the arrangements he made. I didn’t want to start up with him again, or even have a conversation. But I could not sleep wondering if he was ok, and knowing that I’d cut off all access to reach me.

So what is that? It’s unconditional love. This person has hurt me, but I see now that he has hurt himself more, that he lost much more than me from his actions. I forgive him, and move on. Because I know that holding onto pain and anger is like taking poison and thinking the other guy is gonna die. It’s a lesson I learned well going through an ugly, contentious, 4 year divorce. In order for me to move on, I had to forgive my ex for all the ills he had attempted to do to me. Because holding on to the hate, pain and anger, gave my ex control still. I knew he didn’t know better, I knew that it was his own fear, and feelings of inadequacy that caused him to do those things. And I also learned that our thoughts become things. All the ills he wished on me, were what manifested for him. It is sad, just sad, to see this happen to someone you loved.

So it is the same now. I see that this man believes he is not worthy of unconditional love. He believes he is being punished by forces greater than himself. He lashes out, because he listens to the voice he thinks is protecting him, when in fact it is the voice that is leading him to harm. It leads him to being alone, thinking he needs no one. That he is separate from the whole. When in reality, we are all one thing, and need each other.

Now that the anger has subsided over the projections, and nastiness, and I have allowed my spirit to once again take over, and feel the unconditional love for him that I try to extend where ever I go….I feel for him. I feel for his inner child, I see his soul and the struggle it has to be heard, to be allowed to shine, to remove the layers of darkness that lie over it. Last night I could not sleep, because I knew I had shut a door that needed to be cracked open. It actually made my stomach hurt.

During my divorce, in the early days, my son was living with my abusive and controlling ex. My ex conspired with my son, all kinds of things that hurt me, one of which was to cut off my ability to communicate with my son. I used to go knock on the door of my old house, the place I’d lived for 30 years, and just beg my son to come out and hug me. Because I knew, somehow through the grace of God, that my son needed to know I was still standing no matter what he did to me. That I still loved him unconditionally just because he existed. Eventually, he understood, and walked away from his abusive and controlling father to my door, with the clothes on his back. Because he knew.

It was then, that I learned the overwhelming power of unconditional love.

So, I sent this man a text after unblocking him, and told him I just need to know if he’s ok. I think I wanted him to know that I still care…that no matter what he throws at me, I will still be standing. I don’t want to be his lover, but I want him to know that I can live what I preach, that I can walk the walk at the end of the day. I also want to know that for myself.

Unconditional love means just that…it’s unconditional. We cannot pick and choose those we love. We have to love everyone. Probably especially those our egos feel least deserve it.

So….my intention was not to be a mirror to him. But I know I was, we are all mirrors for each other, whether intentionally or not. It’s the way it works. I know he didn’t like what he saw, and that his ego took over and projected all his fear onto me, and my motives. And I know he hurts, he knows somewhere that he read me wrong. A little bit at a time, I hope he can begin to believe that he is worthy of love, and….that he doesn’t have to earn it. That it is his because he exists.

Living like water means that we find a way to get back to source. So that’s what I’ve done. I have found a way to get back to source and extend love where it is needed. I know that most people would not understand. But this morning, my soul feels free, I am satisfied that I did the right thing, cracking open that door for a little light to shine through.  A Course in Miracles says that a miracle is a change in perception from fear to love. I hope I have helped to start that process.   I hope I cracked his mirror a little too. Cracked the door, cracked the mirror. Spread a little light where it was needed.