One Last Gong Bath Tonight

gong bath

Last night I sent a friend in Scotland Reiki. I only sent it for about 15 minutes, because I was so tired from getting up at 4:30 am yesterday that I started to fall asleep. (Sorry, Ogden, lol) But it did me good, which is the cool thing about giving reiki, you get it too, as it passes through you. I got the first 8 hours of sleep that I have gotten in about a week. I hope it helped him too.

I did my meditation this morning, as usual. Trying to prepare myself emotionally for this long trip I begin tomorrow. I realized at some point during the meditation that I can probably finish everything I need to finish to leave tomorrow, and still have time to go to the gong bath tonight. That would be the best thing for me.

I have been holding so much emotion in my sacral and solar plexus chakras. Every morning I wake up and have that nervous feeling in my stomach. I work with it throughout the day, but still, it’s there. And from time to time it overwhelms me, to drive such a long distance and then leave my son there. It’s just a mom thing I guess. I spent so many years trying to protect him from his fathers wrath and biting tongue, and then so much time freeing him, and then the last 8 years trying to help him heal. Making him believe that he is worthy of love and belonging just because he exists in this world, and just because he is my son, and I think that I’ve been successful on that count.

It’s just hard. We are so close. I am so happy and proud of him, that he’s set this new life up all on his own. I’ve tried to help, of course, financially a little, contributing to new tires and car alignment, and I’ll help him set up his place in CO, but he’s done all the work himself to find a place to live, and to get a decent job.

But anyway, I think the gong bath will help me to release a lot of the angst I have over the whole thing.

Not to mention all the people I’ve been saying goodbye to. There will be a ton more when I get back from CO too. I love this place I live, except in winter, lol, it is beautiful. But it’s the people who are in my life on a regular basis that will be in my heart.

So gonging I will go. I sent my friend Linda an email telling her I was now intending to come. Just once more to lay on the floor and let the tsunami pf the vibrations of all Peter and Linda’s gongs carry me where I need to go.

Working through it this morning.

Love and light…..

Note:  the picture at the top is not the gong bath I go to, but is very similar.  (Pic is from Google Images.)  We also have 8 gongs and all kinds of other vibrational instruments.  And most of us lay on the floor, it’s my preferred position.

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Trusting My Gut

I used to be good at this.  I used to be able to walk away from people and situations that my gut told me were not right.  In fact, that one ability, helped me see through the bullshit in my long contentious divorce, it allowed me to sit on the witness stand for a day and a half, and speak the truth.  It allowed me to see through my ex-husband’s profusion of lies, and advise my attorney what the truth was.  It was strong enough that the judge and the Supreme Court were able to see through him too.  I was never weak.  I always knew what I knew and could speak the truth.

It has served me at work, and with my choice of friends.

I don’t know what happened to my ability to know what the truth was when it came to S.  I have a friend who said I wanted to save him.  Did I?  My gut says no, even now.  The last 6 months with him, weren’t really with him.  I tried to break it off with him so many times.  Every time he drew me back in.  And then, he would come to me and tell me he decided he didn’t want a relationship, he wanted to be alone, and to figure out who he was.  I would always say, then go, do it.  I support you in that.  Always.  And two days later he would want to see me.  Just a couple weeks ago, he told me he thought he would always be a bachelor.  This was after Betty Boop showed up, and it made me believe that he didn’t want her either.

But my gut, when she first showed up “back in his life” told me she was back in his life for real.  I lost my mind, because I knew….  But then he came to me, and told me it wasn’t true, and all he wanted was my happiness, and I believed it.  In the face of my gut screaming at me that she was back in his life, that he was leaving me for her, I believed him.

I wanted to believe him.  There is no other excuse, for me to not listen to my gut.  For me to take apart the pieces I had put together telling me the truth, and to make a different picture.  One that didn’t include her.  His words…”I’m so disappointed that you would think I would jump back into that, after what she did to me.”

But he had.  And I knew it.  And I denied it.

Because I loved him so much.  I think I was addicted to loving him.  It was obviously unhealthy. We were never on an even keel.  And it was so incredibly one sided.  It was all about him, his pleasure, his happiness, what he wanted always came before us.  There was no us, really.  It was momentary.  Fleeting,  There were moments even days, sometimes a week or two. But it was still all about S.

Except after he fucked the prison whore, and I was seeing A, then he came to me and for about a week, maybe two, there was us.  The memory, the promise of that short time stayed with me, teasing me, telling me that he did care for me.  Then, I guess it was when his best friend died, he was so morose and depressed, and withdrew into himself again.  Whatever fledgling thing that had started between us, disappeared.  I could never get it back.

I could read him so well.  The day his friend died, I had not talked to him in a couple days, but that morning, I knew something was wrong, and messaged him, asking if he was ok.  He messaged back, funny you should ask, Gus died last night.

This kind of thing happened all the time with us.  He would call or text when I had my hand on the phone.  I’d be deep in thought about him, or something related to him, and he’d call.  I know he feels my pain now, but I also know he won’t call.  I may hear from him, when she’s gone home…asking if I’m ok.

Don’t, S, call me.  Don’t, S, ask.  I’m not ok.  You have your answer.  You don’t need any more.  Any interest you show is only to make you feel good about yourself.  To make you convince yourself you are not a monster.  It would do nothing but cause me more pain.

So…my gut tells me, I need to block him.  I need to set myself up so I don’t ever hear his voice, or his name.  That I need to try to erase as much as I can of him from my life.  I need to allow the love I have for him to sink into the deep recesses of my soul, where it can sleep undisturbed, and without disturbing me.

My ego won’t let me do that yet.  I’m working on it.  I need to cut the cords, over and over.  I need to break that connection with him.  If our souls have some connection, which I have always believed, they will meet again when this life is over.  When it won’t hurt me any more.  Til then, I need to get as much distance between he and I and our non-relationship as possible.

I’m so grateful I will be going to my niece’s wedding in VA in a couple weeks.  It will be so wonderful to be with my warm family, loving family, to be with people who have, as the basis from which they live, unconditional love.  I wish I could go and stay there.  I am so glad that I have in place a plan to leave this area.  Now more than ever.  The driving force has always been that I can’t retire and stay in Connecticut, it is just too expensive to live here.  Moving to Florida will allow me to own a home with no mortgage and have enough money to live without working.  Now, equally as strong a driving force as that, and maybe even more powerful, more urgent, is the desire to get as far away from S as I can.

He was going to come stay with me there, I had talked about coming up here in the summer and staying with him.

Another dream, another plan, another hope, washed away with the tsunami of “She’s back in my life.”

Why I ever ever allowed him to make believe that it wasn’t true, I’ll never know.  My gut screamed it.  My friends said, “how do you know it’s true?” when I lost my mind when she first showed up.  “I just know….I just know.  I can’t explain it, I just know.”  I was so sure, I convinced them.  Then I listened to him, and took him back into my heart, and let myself love him without limit, again, and here I am, 4 weeks later, looking at what I knew was true in the first place.  Emptier now than I was then, and not only do I have to deal with the loss of him, but with the pain of knowing I was played by someone I loved so much.  That he bold-faced lied to me.

It’s like a kick in stomach, a knife in the back, and a hard left to my temple. I am so beat up and bruised.  The scars will run deep, there will be tender spots there for long into the forseeable future.  I keep wanting someone to wake me up, and tell me it’s just a nightmare.  That he’s not really waking up with her this morning, taking her to breakfast, loving her the way he could never love me.  And I know, in my gut, that I loved him better than she ever will, or is even capable of.

It’s hard, to give someone your all, and be rejected.  To give them your all and find out it was just a plaything for them, that it never meant anything of any substance.  It feels like a waste, a waste of precious love.  Even though, I know to love is never a waste, but really, there shouldn’t be so much pain attached to it.  It seems so unfair, to hurt so much when all you did was love too much.

He wasn’t the one.  The universe has been pointing me away from him for months, trying to spare me this pain.  Finally, I had to get to a place where the road closed behind me, the bridge burned as I crossed it.  It was the only way I could gain my freedom to love someone who could share that glorious experience with me.

I’ll be smarter next time.  I’ll be wiser.  I’ll be harder.  But some man, at some time will break through that, and relish my ability to love him.  I believe he’s out there.

First, I will have to learn to trust my gut again.  And to walk away from anyone it screams no to.

The journey continues.  But it’s hard today, unfairly hard.

Out of the Fog

  

My struggle seems to have taken a time-out this morning.

I went to a gong bath last night.  My hour long (or slightly longer) meditation spent in darkness, laying on the floor, blanket pulled up, and mask over my eyes, while 8 gongs vibrated, and crystal bowls sang, and drums beat and bells chimed in a wondrous cacophony of healing.  I set an intention last night going in.  It was to send love to all those in my life, love without strings, just send it to the universe and let the universe decide how to bring it to them.  I sent it to S, to my ex husband, to my son, to my friends.  To my mother, my sisters.  I visualized the pink energy threads spreading out from me, touching these people.

When the tsunami’s came (the tsunami is our name for when the gongs are played with such intensity that the vibrations wash over you like a tsunami, and you cannot hold a thought, whatever needs to bubble up for release is compelled then, there is no escape as the vibration of 8 gongs being wailed on reaches your very cellular level and finds what needs healing and opens the door) I sobbed.  For what, I didn’t know, but release is always good, and probably, at the gong bath, more common than not.

I had gone with a friend.  It’s nice to have a friend with me, I usually do, but last night I wished I was driving home alone, too many emotions, and none were coherent enough to put into words.  So, I let her talk, she is addicted to her phone, and I let her tell me all the funny memes that she was reading as I drove back to where we’d left her car.  (“I put $1 in an envelope every time my wife and I have sex, and what’s in there is all I’m spending on her for Christmas.  So far she’s getting a cup of coffee.”)  The time passed amicably.

Then I got stuck in traffic.  They are doing major major highway reconstruction at night, and it held me up a good half hour.  The emotions which the gongs shook to the surface began to appear, like a wound that won’t close.  I longed once more for what never would be, I couldn’t find a pathway between what I know I can accept and what I want more than anything.  I felt like all those pink threads that I sent out were pulling on me, painfully, 100 little threads pulling my heart apart. Struggle.

I sent out a text, to which there was no response.  Understandably, but still, painfully silent.

When I got home, late, because of the traffic, I wept as I wrote “Only You”.  More release.

I climbed into bed, and tried to read.  My book club is reading “The Sacred Year” by Michael Yankovich.  I wasn’t crazy about it at first, but I like it more and more as I read.  His year becomes a deeper and deeper search into his soul.  Finally, I shut the light out, it was late, I was exhausted.  But the struggle seems to like that time, when I am tired and it’s late, to make me think about it.

I have been trying to wean myself off of the Ambien to sleep.  Started with the carpal tunnel, because it helped me sleep through a lot of the pain.  Last weekend I made it through a night without it.  But not since.  I tried last night, but lay there, with a knot in my heart and the pit of my stomach, and finally got out of bed and took one more, so I wouldn’t be up all night, struggling.

I was thinking then, that I might ask for something today, that would probably not serve me well, except it would stop the pain, for a little while.  Not having any resolution but thanks to the Ambien, I fell soundly asleep for 6 hours.

This morning, it seems, the gongs work becomes evident.  What bubbled up last night, what was pulled out of me at the very cellular level, needed to come up, and I  needed to release it.  While I still feel the struggle, it is not so fresh, not like a new wound again.  More like one that is healing, a wound that brings bittersweet memories with it, but is healing, not bleeding anymore.

And really, who knows which wound causes the struggle?  There are many, we all have many.  I have chosen one, it seems, at which to direct my emotions.  I think, really, the struggle is multi-faceted, and not completely caused by present moment events.

I was surprised to walk out on my deck at 6 AM this morning and find the world shrouded in fog.  As if some greater power knew I needed this time alone, no distractions of bright golden sunrises, or even morning stars.  I know they are there, I know I will see them again, but I needed to focus on this this morning .

It is good to regain my focus, and to think I can move forward in letting go of things that have not served me, even if I love them.  I will always love them.  And that’s a good thing.  To love without attachment.  I’m trying, anyway.

I’m in Charge Now

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.