Friday, July 16, 2010

Living in Deceipt

I've actively walked the Healer's journey for almost 2 decades and I’m angry. Deceit carries an awful punch. Hits you in the gut. Or even worse, it tears a hole in your heart. Well, I’m 50 years old now and I’ve seen my share of pain and sorrow. Sometimes it feels like I’ve seen more than my share of deceit.

Deceit is a way of hiding, sometimes intentional and calculated – other times just inconsiderate neglect. “I didn’t know you’d care,” she said to me after telling me she was not comfortable bringing her two-year-old into my home. Didn’t know what the babe might see. She seemed astounded that such a revelation might hurt my feelings.

But that was years ago and I’ve moved on. I’m wondering if there will come a time when moving on is not required? Is it possible, I ask myself, to find a community to trust and be trusted by?

Really, I just want to be witnessed in all my strengths and weaknesses. And, I want to be held and cherished. By a man, sure, but I’m talking about a truly supportive community. I want a community that will accept me for who and what I am. I’m willing to do the same for them.

You see, I have this ancestral memory of times and places where this happened. I know what it feels like in my bones. It feels wonderful, whole, free, enlivening, inspiring and juicy. And it’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced here in this lifetime. I keep searching and searching, like a homing pigeon longing for its perch. Why is it so illusive?

It seems to me that if I wasn’t suppose to experience it here in this lifetime, I wouldn’t have such a keen memory of it. For most of my life a part of me has always been looking for home. I have this image of finding it and metaphorically running naked through the neighborhood singing freedom songs.

Until then, I just keep those songs tucked away out of sight. Then I get irritated when someone doesn’t know I sing. And a little light of clarity opens. If I want to be seen, I must first show myself. I’ve got to show up.

I’ve convinced myself that I live in a high degree of integrity. I know my purpose. I follow it. I offer myself to my community. Ya da, ya da, ya da. It’s really just so much bull and rhetoric.

What I show and what I share is certainly authentic to who I am. But honestly, I only show a drop of who I am. Well, this isn’t homeopathy! I’m a powerful woman and healer. This tiny drop I offer is a fucking insult when it comes down to it. I offer a drop to a thirsty world.

I’ve been afraid to offer more. I’ve lack the courage to step up and say, “look who I am!” But people can feel it. They sense more and they know that I’m hiding. So, they simply feel let down or left out.

It’s understandable, my hiding. I’m an intuitive healer. I talk to ghosts and fairies. I dream the past. I step between the worlds for training and guidance. People are as likely to want to run from me as they are to want a piece of me. There’s little understanding of my skills in this world now. Hiding seems a reasonable course of action. Hiding seems wise.

But that brings me back to my question. If I am to hide who I am, why do I have such a longing to reveal it and be witnessed? I’ve come to a place where the pain of holding myself back has become greater than the fear of being rejected, persecuted or banished. It’s time to come out of my “safe” familiar closet.

I fully intend to walk into the supportive community by being naked and singing at the top of my voice. I mean that metaphorically, of course. But as it’s time for revelations I admit I love being naked and singing as loud as I want to. (I’m quite happy doing that in private.)

I have often heard that if you want to attract a lover, you must be the lover you want to attract. I’ll follow that principle here. I want an open and supportive community, so I will be an open and supportive person. And if you don't like it, step aside. I feel certain that others are heading my way in the hopes of finding me