At first, you might find it odd to talk directly to parts of yourself. I ask you to close your eyes and visualize the part of you that needs, and asks for, healing or appreciation. If it is a malaise of the whole body, you will visualize the body. You, your spirit, your thoughts and intentions, are like the captain of a ship. All the parts require your attention in order to move the vessel forward.
Today I am writing from my bed, struck down with some odd, random bug not associated with spring. It feels like an accumulation of grief, centered in my heart, around recent losses, the grief of the world and the time of year my son died. Whatever it is, the result is physical pain. As I lay here, I used a healing technique I teach in my counseling, and wrote about in my book “The Promise: Revealing the Purpose of Your Soul.” The exercise is to heal your body. In this case I chose the heart, recognizing its energy, strength and service to me in my lifetime.
As I say in the book:
Once you have a sense of your body as a physical, energetic and emotional
part of you that wants you to know how it is, truly, the healing will have a personal
connection that it does not have when you see, for instance, your heart in an x-ray.
Choose one area, and make the following request, filling in the body part you want to work on, naming your particular area of pain, illness or discomfort: For example:“ Body, Tell Me,” or “Lungs, Tell Me.” At that point, pick up a pen and write what you hear from your body. Don’t stop and think. Just keep writing. This is the poem that came when I implored, “Heart, Tell Me,” and my heart answered.
Heart, Tell Me Your Story
I’ve been waiting a long time for you to ask.
I have loved well and much, sometimes
unwisely, but always with a warmth like
a hearth on a winter’s night. I have been
broken, twice in a way that even God
wouldn’t heal for a long time…years,
in fact. Small fractures healed, scarred
and went unnoticed, those two were
jagged cuts with a dull knife—uncivilized
and cruel. Look closely and you’ll see wide
white scar tissue in the shape of lightening
bolts. The doctors say I have to work harder
to pump the blood. I think it is to remind me
of joy by reminding me of pain. Without
both, how can we know which to choose?
Someday I will heal completely and the dams
of my veins and arteries will open fully. Love
will rush once again like mighty rivers.
I sing, too. It is not all tragedy. Love raised me
up the mountain more than once. I have flown,
seen fields of sunflowers undulate below me
mile after golden mile. Children have warmed
me, soft quilts of feathers folded and tucked
around to keep winter out. Children! Their
hearts are grown from pieces of me, regenerating
beat and cell for the next family of hearts. I
am like an old barn, moonlight slanting through
the broken places in the roof that still shelters
all who need my love. I am ready to give up the pain,
to open wide to love again. I need a gentle partner
to catch my fears and whisk them away. I need
a trustworthy friend, kind-eyed and warm handed
to massage my scars with oil of almond. We hearts
are fragile but strong, like the legs of antelope.
Once broken, we must be hidden until we are strong
enough to run again, out-pace the jackal and hyena.
I think I am nearly ready. Since you ask, you must
be leaning that way too. Are you ready to take me out
again, expose me to love and danger?
Your writing won’t necessarily result in a poem, I promise you. Most of mine have not. But it is always a gift to hear from your body how it is doing emotionally and spiritually. Energy is what makes up our intuition, our minds and our hearts. We often focus our energy on others to help them. The highest calling is to focus it on ourselves in healing and understanding. Then we are more useful to others and the world. I would love to hear how this exercise worked for you.
“The Promise: Revealing the Purpose of Your Soul” is available at http://www.theresetappouni.com