Cords & Chakras
Must. Get. FillInTheBlank. This. Week.
The first time I went to see her, I couldn’t sleep through the night. All of my chakras were closed except for my throat chakra. This didn’t surprise friends who know me and dig chakras, I’m rarely unable to speak my mind, but I’m often unable to act on my heart.
I had built a lot of walls over the years. I had some grief that I never dealt with over a cousin’s murder when I was 13 and she was 8 or 9. I thought I had dealt with it, but stuffing emotions isn’t the same thing. Who knew? In addition to reiki, she does something called spiritual release. She worked on releasing that grief and fear.
I left feeling like a million bucks and didn’t go back to see her until after Israel. In case you’ve forgotten, I came back from Israel thinking I was falling in mumble mumble. Mumble mumble is mutual, so it wasn’t that and when I found that out, I was devastated. A wreck. Off to reiki I went. A few more fear, grief and safety adjustments. Some rain and I walked myself back to Chicago that night. It paved the way for a renewed friendship and letting go of a situation I really couldn’t change.
Back again today. This time my throat chakra was closed, when it is almost always open. My throat (speaking) and my heart were closed. This explains at some level my inability to write lately or express myself. We talked about some of the men in my life. I complained that I’m a magnet for men who aren’t ready for relationships.
“Cough, cough,” she said, “You attract mirrors of yourself. You think you’re ready, but you aren’t quite there. You can see yourself being ready, but you have to get there. Until then, these are good experiences and good men to have in your life.” (Wow saying “men” makes it sound like I have an army of men that I’m twirling around my little finger. Well, maybe I do. An army. A whole army.)
During the reiki, she focused on my lower back. As she works on different areas of my body, different memories play. When she was working on my back today, I went back to one of the most humbling days.
When I was a residence director at Fort Lewis, my first semester was rough. My staff of four RAs was split into two camps that hated each other and I was pretty powerless in the middle. It was, without a doubt, the worst staff on campus. During training in the second semester, I asked each of my RAs to write down a few things. 1. What our staff was like. 2. What they wanted it to be like. 3. What they wanted from me.
Then I let them read the lists out loud. Have you ever asked your staff to tell you, in front of the rest of your staff, all the things they want you to do differently? Have you done it without tears or yelling or hurt feelings?
By the end of the year, nobody could recognize us. We were the best staff on campus. The closest staff. In fact, three of the four members got an apartment together and a year later I lived with one of them. We were tight.
While I was reliving sitting on the lounge floor with my staff that day, she said, “There is a cord here. I don’t know what it connects you to, but I’m going to sever the connection.” That cord connected me to housing. More than that, to a mentor that I once loved… or thought I loved. A confusing friendship/mentorship that played a big part in how hard being in Colorado was at the beginning.
Something I thought I dealt with…. apparently dating a guy that sort-of looks like the first guy and then telling him off… not dealing. Now that cord is cut and I feel good about it. I was surprised to learn it was there, just like I was surprised to learn that the grief from my cousin’s murder was still holding me back.
I’m rambling, aren’t I? I feel better about the course of my life post-reiki. That’s all I meant to say. I’m always surprised by the things in my life that still affect me. I’m relieved to get a metaphor for why I feel so antsy sometimes (seeing where I want to be, thinking it is where I am) and some guidance on what to do (keeping doing what I’m doing.)