Queen of Dreams Radio
Posts Tagged ‘Let Go’
Back in 1996, I was a 27-year-old contemplating ending the marriage I knew wasn’t right to begin with. I had entered into the relationship 8 years earlier knowing I wasn’t in love, but I was desperate to leave the safety of my grandmother’s house and the marriage seemed like as likely a ticket out as any other. I didn’t believe I could do it on my own…I had tried that once with a roommate right out of high school and attracted all kinds of experiences that found me racing back to her within 6 weeks. To say I entered a marriage for convenience may sound cold and harsh, but the reality was that my then-husband and I were good friends, had enough in common that days were never boring and we could stand long stretches of time together without wanting to kill each other.
During that 8 years, I gained 73 pounds. Nearly 10 pounds a year, on average. With him, I found a sense of ‘home base’ and began to slowly make my way out into the world. Though I felt infinitely confident in my own abilities, I had many fears about the world at large. With my home base set, I could venture out little by little and begin to grow my courage.
What I didn’t know then that I know now was that as confined as I felt to my grandmother’s support and apartment – her space – I just transferred that self-created prison to my new husband and the marriage. Suddenly, there I was, venturing out more and more, feeling more adventurous and yet always feeling the tether back to home base that would call me back time and time again. I was never, ever quite ‘free.’
My husband struggled with depression. He seemed to always be up or down. There was no in-between. Thank goodness he wasn’t bi-polar, his tendency seemed to be directly tied to his every day experiences. If he sold that day, he was up. If he didn’t, he was down. I had unknowingly entered into my mother’s life’s story. I dutifully played the part by working two and three jobs just like she and my grandmother did. I literally was too busy to even contemplate whether or not I was happy. I ran around working 60 to 80 hours a week ensuring we could pay our bills. I often would come home to my husband asleep in bed at 5 pm.
One day, I came home and just ‘knew’ it was time to go. After that, I left a hundred times in my mind before I uttered the words. By the time I did say them, I had no emotional fight, no compassionate reserve for the depression, I simply had to go. I had grown enough to feel that perhaps I could make it by myself. My mother’s life story always surrounded her dependence…on her mother…on her husbands. I figured, I can always go live with mom if I can’t do this. I have to try.
I looked at my house, I looked at my dogs and I said good-bye to my ex and all of what I had spent nearly a decade creating. I felt alive in a way I had never felt. I had nothing except the car I just paid off and a few pieces of furniture, my clothes and books.
A wave of thoughts, ideas, longings and unmet desires met me at the doorstep that evening. It was as if all the things I wanted to do came bubbling up with the energy of freedom. I thought, I could move anywhere. I could move to Florida, to Illinois, to New Mexico. I could go to school anywhere. I realized my ex-husband didn’t ‘do’ any of this to me. He didn’t keep me confined…he didn’t say no…it was all the stuff in between us that was said in a conversation, a fleeting remark where I had taken each one and labeled these “he doesn’t like this” and “he doesn’t like that” and the death knell…I have to bend myself into a pretzel to live within all of these spoken twigs that weaved themselves into a prison cell.
The freeing moment … the moment that allowed me to leave that relationship despite my faith and fear of condemnation was looking at the situation and telling myself the truth. I had been hanging on to this home base for support when, in reality, I was the one supporting the home base. I supported it financially, emotionally, spiritually and in many physical ways, too. My ex is a dear, sensitive soul, and I knew he deserved to be in a relationship with someone who adored him. I had held on to his potential for years…clinging on to what I could see so clearly inside of him…urging him to live it, but the anguish of watching him over and over again start to soar and then plummet to Earth was more heartbreaking than any person should ever have to bear. I loved the man he would come to be…I did not love the man he was in that moment.
I do not mean to imply I was any rose at the time, either. We were a match at many levels…and yet, his unwillingness to grow actually gave me the strength…the gift to do what he would not. When I let go of the marriage, I also let go of trying to help him see his own light. When I dared to accept him just as he was…to let go. That’s when I entered into my own acceptance.
How I would not know how much farther I had to go to fully let go!
Looking for a Dream Life:
A few days ago, Chance and I were talking about the shadow in the closet (a.k.a. the ego). I explained to him that the ego is really like an ant whose shadow is ENORMOUS in size and floats on the wall like it is going to overtake EVERYTHING!
He giggled about this idea and we dived deep into his latest shadow frenzy… “why are you against me?” When he identified his ‘ant,’ which, in this case, was his need to be ‘right.’ He seemed to see that the whole story came apart. *Poof* the shadow disappeared.
As we chatted, I thought it was fun that he laughed at the outrageousness of this GIANT shadow taking over the WORLD (but not really). It felt fun, and I kept going with the story as I love making him laugh.
That’s when I started making up a story about how if you have too many of these ego ants running around, then you end up with a closet full of these GINORMOUS shadows that are trying to get out. They are banging on the door, “Let me out!!!” He kept laughing and I kept spinning tales about how shadows wait for any moment to slip under the door and, once unleashed, they start painting everything grey and black.
A few hours later, I started to think about the story. And it reminded me of a part of the goal setting workshop I included when working creative people, who tend to often also be sensitive.
That part is…What Secret Are You Hiding?
Our secrets sit in our inner closet soaking in our energy and claiming much more of our life than is necessary. Your secret might be something you’ve done that you don’t want ANYONE to know about. It might be a fear. It might be a belief that you would never admit to anyone else.
In honor of Halloween, I suggest that we PURGE our “Secret” ant monsters and let them go! Tell someone, if you want. Make peace with it (them?) if you want. Do what makes you feel best!
Once it is out and over with, you’ll see that it wasn’t really as big a deal as you thought and then you’ll have a tremendous pool of energy and resources to use for something really special – YOU!
Yesterday, I called a friend who was feeling down. I shared from my own experience how the soul beckons us back to who we are – pure love, pure joy. I told her my story of learning how to love myself. I never thought of this story as funny, but she was laughing so hard that something in it must have been funny. Trust me, at the time, it was ANYTHING other than funny!
She said… “I have tears coming out of my eyes and they feel like not happy tears, but I’m laughing at the same time.”
That’s kind of what it feels like when you begin to return to the true you. It feels really sad at first. Like, HOW could I not care for myself anymore than this? HOW could I possibly have THOUGHT I loved myself when OBVIOUSLY I’ve been deluding myself! And your ego will really grieve how you didn’t see it all along. You might even sprinkle in some course critical comments about how “stupid” you’ve been. But, slowly, you begin again.
And the fog clears.
Then YOU get to come back and make some clear choices, and see that you really are amazing and brilliant. And wonder how ANYONE wouldn’t be able to see that – including you!
The rose is a symbol of completion…wholeness. I’ve seen this symbol so often over the years in readings – rosebuds for people who were just about to open, roses that were opening and closing for people who were saying – I want to, I don’t want to, I want to, I don’t want to, white roses, red roses, roses covered in snow, roses floating in the ocean, but mostly, I see roses and I experience the loving beauty as God wants to say… I see you!
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!
