If you’ve been following me for any period of time you know how I am my harshest critic. I’m barb-tongued, blunt and vitriolic on the best of days but the worst stuff always gets directed inward. I think this is a human thing, as I know it’s a very common phenomena. Hell there are a whole slew of comedians out there whose entire schtick is self-deprecation. We understand it. We engage in it and some of us even revel in it. No matter how cruel or unforgiving we can be to others we are always twice as bad towards ourselves. Some of us (like me) even take it a step further, we have an immense capacity for forgiveness but never for ourselves.
I think one of my worst and most insidious offenses against myself is the ‘Just not to me.’ addendum.
“Sure there are people out there who have winning streaks, happens all the time… just not to me.”
“Everyday, people are making huge leaps in spiritual growth and awakening, it’s becoming more and more common …just not for me.”
Etc.
It’s such a small, tacked on phrase, I don’t even realize it when I say it most of the time. But it’s like a small drip of poison that let’s you know there’s a deeper well of it inside.
Last night I went to my Shaman Circle. It was specifically a Healing Circle which I had never attended before and when I signed up for it I had done so with the intention that I would work on some long-distance healing for my sister (who is in terrible health). I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I am no Healer. But the road I’ve walked in the last 6 months has all lead here. So here I am, giving it a go.
This week has been a horrible one, emotionally, for reasons I won’t bore you with. So by the time last night hit all I wanted to do was take my shoes off, open a bottle of wine and watch Sherlock until my eyeballs fell out. But I pep-talked myself into going, despite the physical exhaustion, despite the emotional wreck I was in.
I immediately felt my spirits lift once I hopped in the car with Kachina and another, new friend that I’ve made at Circle. The easy chatter and laughter is always a balm but I still felt… off. Once on site, we merged with another group of friends who were having dinner before Circle and the laughter and chatter was turned up to eleven. I finally felt the tension slip away. These women bolster me in ways I would never have thought possible. They are easy to talk to, accepting and even joyous of my company no matter my state, easy to laugh and hilarious in an of themselves. I love them and I could not possibly consider myself luckier.
The energy at Circle was astounding. I can’t even put into words the whorl of immense energy that descended upon us once we got down to business. I know I’ve often talked about how powerful this group is, but this was so far above and beyond that I almost blurted out ‘Which one of you is doing that?!’
When it came time to do the healing work (via Journey) I was still thinking I was going to aim it at my sister. The group leader had talked to us about ethics when it comes to this kind of work. So I knew I was going to extend the invite to my sister and ask her if she wanted me to heal her.
Once in trance I found myself standing at the edge of an underground pool that I had seen once before. (Back in January, during one of my Coven’s full moon celebrations we had done a small journey to connect with our Fetches, this is the place my Fetch had taken me) I was in a cavern, deep within a mountainside, standing hand in hand with my Fetch. I felt the warmth of his hand as he squeezed mine, letting me know he was there. I put out the Call to my other Guides, asking any and all to be present for the work at hand. I was stunned to see Jaguar show up. (Brother Jaguar shows up only rarely. Usually when I’m having a particularly profound, earth-shattering trance.) So I kinda of boggled for a minute before asking ‘What the fuck’s going on?’
It immediately became clear that my sister was not the focus of the healing. I was.
A look passed between my Fetch and Jaguar and my Fetch began gently removing my clothes. I went with it, still absorbing what was going on and being unsure what to think of it. I let myself look around the cavern and noticed that the small flame spouts were still firing upon the surface of the water, just like before. When I had first seen this place my Fetch had told me ‘This is a place of Healing. It is open to all.’ And I remember being kind of ‘what the hell?’ about it because I hadn’t contacted him about healing nor had it been on my mind. But last night I knew I was going into a healing session, I just didn’t know it was going to be for me.
Once I was naked I was lead into the warm, clear water’s of the natural pool. The small flames that burned upon the surface didn’t burn my skin or harm me in any way, they just radiated a divine warmth that spread like ripples through my entire body. After I had completely submerged in the pool, I was indicated to sit on the side and face Jaguar.
Brother Jaguar was looking intensely beautiful, as always, but his focus wasn’t on my face as I stared at him… he was staring at my left foot. Suddenly it hit me like a bolt. What I was there for, why I was being singled out instead of my sister.
Some Background: About three and half years ago I suffered an injury, seemingly out of the blue. Plantar Fasciitis in my left foot. I had never had any kind of debilitating injury or illness before in my life, so rearranging everything around daily, constant, excruciating pain was new to me. All of the things I love to do, running, climbing, dancing, etc, I just couldn’t do anymore. I tried everything to waylay the pain, medicines, pills, tiger balm, braces, wrapping, patches and soaks. Nothing really helped. And I can’t tell you how many times I silently despaired that I would never be whole again. That I would be a highly-functioning cripple for the rest of my life, living with this constant pain.
I followed Jaguar’s gaze as my Fetch said ‘This is a spiritual wound. Not a physical one.’ I almost recoiled when I saw it. A huge, rusted black, barbed hook was completely through my foot. It oozed black and venomous, the hook completely and thoroughly through the side of my foot (just above the heel) and emerged barbed and sickly out of the instep. It went directly through the bone, the barbs biting into the marrow and looked to have been there for awhile.
I looked up at my Fetch in an absolute fucking panic. “Well pull it out!” I said. He gave me a funny look and said “Not me, dummy. You. You put it there, you have to take it out.” And then I realized that this wasn’t just a hook, this was an anchor. This was something that I put on myself in preparation for my mother’s long, slow decline. I gave up everything for her. My dream job. My independence. My boyfriend. Everything. I gave up everything, with all the best intentions, and anchored myself to my fate like Andromeda upon the rocks. It had held me fast and festered. My mother declined and passed, and the hook stayed, nestled deep into the bone, holding me fast. My mother’s been gone almost a year and a half now, and still the hook held fast, growing poisonous and crippling.
I started to cry as I grasped the massive black hook and began to pull. It hurt so bad and it took all of my strength and will to work it out, inch by inch. Jaguar stayed close, a breath away from me, staring intently at the work I was doing. My Fetch turned into the most amazing cheerleader, his deep, soft voice urging me on, encouraging me, telling me exactly what I needed to hear. Finally it came free, bringing with it a flood of black, viscous blood. I flailed about helplessly for a second before my Fetch grabbed my leg and placed the foot into the pool. We three watched as the black poison seeped into the healing waters in a long stream, coiling down before being neutralized. Finally I began to bleed clear, my own blood, an alarming but healthy shade of red coursing from the wound.
I looked up at Jaguar and saw something in his eyes that made me smile. The next thing I know I was doing something I haven’t done or even been able to think about doing in almost 4 years. I was running. Full-tilt in a dark forest, the moon overhead as my Fetch chased me, laughing. We played tag and hide and seek. Running, tumbling, wrestling. No sign of pain of injury. The feeling, to run again, without pain was enough to make me tear up again within the trance. It’s been so long. I thought I’d never do it again.
When I came out of trance I was dumbfounded to discover that the pain in my foot was gone. For the first time, in 3 and a half years, I felt zero pain. I couldn’t believe it. Miracles are for other people. But not for me.
And yet here I sit this morning. At my desk, just like any other day. No pain. I got out of bed this morning, like any other day, only today I didn’t limp. I believe that people can experience healing so profound that it completely alters their physical presence. It happens all the time.
Just not to me.
