A few days ago, I looked down at my wrists as I drove to an appointment. What I noticed were very clear, distinct lines criss-crossing my wrists.

I immediately thought of my mother. These are her wrists. These are not mine. I remember the day I noticed the lines on her wrists. I thought, ‘How did those lines get there?’ I bent my wrist, glancing back at hers and wondered “How do you get ‘wrist wrinkles?’

I went out to see her that weekend to ‘get away.’ Her studio, when I became an adult, was my haven away from the world of thinking. When I was a little girl, her sewing spot held the same feeling – creating, fun, color. For her, though, over the years the studio became a sweat shop – a never-ending beckoning to go there, not to create art and happy memories, but to make money.

Last night, I woke in the middle of the night like I have so many times before with my hands completely numb – the blood choked off from me holding my hands at right angles while I slept. I’ve noticed this many times before, but this morning the pieces of the puzzle clicked.

My “wrist wrinkles” are attached to my handless maiden – the maiden who runs around so much in pursuit of ‘things’ – caring for others, making a living, achievement, safety – we all can trade who we are for something we are not. I am no different. Last week, a woman came for a session and her maiden was running around too. Ah, the beauty of how orderly our world is – how divine the Messengers are.

One of my biggest fears has been returning to the ‘world.’ My crisis from four years ago allowed me to have a place to heal and to serve others without the worldly grind. I have enjoyed the pace having worked more than half my life – often working two or more jobs at the time. Returning to the world has been a 24/7 non-stop ‘practice’ of returning to my heart consciously moment-to-moment.

When I talk to others who are spinning out of control, I forget that I burned my life to the ground and have been rebuilding my house one picture frame, one vase, one friend at a time. I forget I don’t read five thousand subscriptions I figured out long ago I didn’t really want – or need. I forget I don’t have burdens all over the place because I’ve cleaned up and made peace with so much. I forget how much work I actually have put in to know myself. Yes, the tools are easy, but to know one’s heart and soul is like any other relationship – it takes time. And, it takes daily practice to choose yourself and loving yourself.

That’s what I’m learning – real time – in the world.

I remember when I first met Mark. I so craved the familiarity that my ex-husband and I had. The inside jokes, the familiar glances. It wasn’t enough that Mark and I finished each others’ sentences from day one – I wanted more. But, more can’t come until we are willing to listen and walk together – with ourselves. With our loved ones. We now have a similar banter where he can say a line from a movie, and I know exactly where ‘we’ are.

It is the same for ourselves.

Our handless maiden will get our attention in so many ways. I worked with a woman once whose hands were literally burning and tingling nearly all day long. Rest, the maiden beckoned, rest. Play, she said. Spend time with me. But the woman didn’t. She kept going. A few months later, she ended up having surgery.

Our bodies can only take so much.

In Oriah Mountain Dreamers’s book, The Call, she talks about the handless maiden at the beginning of her book. Her maiden would show up with bloody stumps in a visual in her mind. Slow down she would say.

If you are on this page… at this moment…what is your maiden saying to you?

Looking for a Dream Life:

• wrist wrinkles
• Oriah Mountain Dreamer
• wrinkles on wrist
• wrinkles wrist
• wrinkles on wrists
• wrinkles on my wrists
• wrinkles lines on wrists
• wrinkles in wrist
• wrinkles in her wrist
• wrinkles below my wrist

For years I’ve tried to read Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s books. They called to me (still do), I bought them, but I could never read them. I would begin and then so much energy would build up in me that I would put it down and go do something else.

Recently, though, I picked up her book, The Call, and was able to actually read a couple of chapters of it, realizing that the time is the time when its the time – there’s no judgment in all of this. Evidently, this was the time for me to learn about this archetype. She begins the book, writing about this image she has of herself with her hands held in front of her with her hands severed.

She writes… The woman with her hands – a symbol of doing – severed says to me silently but emphatically, “I quit!”

I read this several months ago, and after learning about quitting ‘doing,’ just like other times, left the book alone. Last night I came upon some of the most clearly stated information about the inner dynamics of the Self. I literally lapped at this book soaking in how crisp and clear Robert A. Johnson’s descriptions were of how we work with our dreams and the unconscious.

Today, I felt pulled to know more about this man who touched me so deeply. And this is what I found on a site by one of Johnson’s mentees, Alzak Amlani, PhD… our handless maiden again.

“In the myth of the Handless Maiden a miller makes a deal with the devil in order to get more work done quickly and with less effort. The devil demands the miller’s daughter as payment. The miller is desolate but unwilling to give up his much expanded mill, so he gives his daughter to the devil. The devil chops off her hands and carries them away." Waited on her by newly prosperous family, the handless maiden is content for a time, until a growing sense of desperation sends her out to the forest alone.

The cry of contemporary women, like that of the handless maiden, is often some variation of "What can I do?"-a wounded, sometimes angry plea appropriate in a world that often makes women feel useless and second-rate outside of the realms of courtship or childbearing.”

In many readings I have seen soul information about a client being a ‘maiden’…with guidance and encouragement for the person to ‘surrender’ the maiden who must ‘do’ to be valued. I’ve seen women with any range of disorders around this theme – digestive failure, arthritic hands that plead to ‘let go,’ and hearts that literally appear to burst at the seams from holding so much resentment.

I had the fortunate experience to work with a beautiful woman last week and the Three Flames brought healing around ‘working hard,’ and worth derived from ‘working hard.’ I have benefitted from that energy, and I realize now that for a long time now Spirit has been trying to show me what to surrender…what to let go. I believe I’m finally home again.

Let’s thank the handless maiden for holding us for a while until we can reunite with the Queen… the Goddess within. The first step… pry your fingers away from the grip you have on control and then … let go!