And then it was as if the pain of the entire world suddenly crashed through my heart.
I’m not sure what triggered it. Maybe the phone call from my friend describing her experience of feeling trapped at home and now feeling afraid of the city, fearful of people.
Or, Maybe hearing the experience of a woman who gave her life to helping other women with breast cancer and knowing the physical pain that can break down the body, the emotional stress it puts in the mind and the longing for a new life and relief.
Or maybe feeling the rage in those who tear down the racial justice. The years of feeling repressed, unheard, oppressed and unfairly treated. The anger rising of the voices quiet, screaming to be heard and to be freed from aggression.
The long nights as the hours slipped by one after the other.
I am thinking of all the injustice in the world—the aches and pain and suffering; I look at the ancestry bloodline that extends the suffering and wrath, which continues the fight for freedom.
A pain between beings, bodies, emotions, and breath continues to progress at a high rate. It presses hard and deep like a knife in the chest. Should I shake it off or let it sit? Pain, suffering, pain. Hours go by.
My heart’s thunder felt so strong that I began to feel uncomfortable lying down. I was sighing, trying to shake it off. “Free my soul,” I cried. I thought about how in Taoism, they say the heart is the most precious and must be protected at all costs.
And as I relate to this world of pain, I see unprotected hearts being riped out by mutiny and discrimination. How do we protect the heart at all cost? Where do we mend the hurt and free the soul?
As my hand reaches out, I could hear silence, feel calm as powerful energy takes me—the soul strokes the body to rest. I try to relax my heart. Within an instant, I feel the calming hand on the back of my heart and my side.
I turned with a soft cry, held in the spirit of his arms. My whole body vibrates with the force of my tears. My mouth open and wailing sounds coming out, I just cried and cried.
And I felt the immense relief of being held as I let the pain through. I was releasing all the suffering, all the hurt, wave after wave.
There were no words or explanations, just a gentle embrace in a sacred space with a spirit. I could feel my most vulnerable inner self surrender to his holding, creating more waves of openness, more tears, more cries. I could feel how it is to be vulnerable and yet held, completely safe to let go. Completely safe to cry. Completely safe to express.
I held the spirit like a baby holding its mother. I hugged it tightly, with loving arms. I was praying for peace, for justice, for love, for respect, and spreading kindness.
It was at 3 am. I’d laid awake for hours. But within minutes of the crying subsiding, I fell deeply asleep wrapped in spirit loving arms, feeling valued. And there I stayed cuddled in love, still holding the embrace.
Perhaps that’s why I communicate my feelings to a spirit and all of you. I’ve given my life’s to inspiring people to hold space for vulnerability and creating spaces where it is safe to be vulnerable. It seems so very essential. I don’t know how I’d get through life without it.
And as more pain rises to the surface, I hope that people have the space to process that pain. “All pain just needs to be loved.” We have got a whole lot of loving to do right now and to share it with others.
My prayer is for all people to know this feeling, to embrace it and grow from it.