I just returned from a two-week trip: my sister-in-law’s ranch in Colorado; my god-daughter’s home in New Mexico; and the Amazon Herb Company Summit in Phoenix, Arizona. How glorious to be on the road, reconnecting with friends and family and seeing new places. While staying at the ranch and meditating in the early morning, I experienced a deep healing related to my early surgery.
During the summer, my sister-in-law runs horse camp. Most who come are girls between the ages of 7 and 11. Watching her work was transformative. One of the skills that she teaches is bareback riding. Integral to mastering this skill is developing trust–of the animal and of oneself. The girls also learn that balance is a key to what is called “natural horsemanship.” At the end of the week-long camp, the girls demonstrate their newly acquired skills at their horse show, where friends and family can watch. The following week, the participants receive photos that show off each rider’s particular skills. What a service to these young people and their families. This nurturing environment opened the way for my healing.
Years ago, I encountered an amazing image while driving, of all things. Descending a hill close to home, I saw a small girl in my imagination, standing alone on a beach near some calm water. She was me at age three. This visual image was very special because it came spontaneously. It was as if I were watching a film. This picture came to me several times back then, but I didn’t know what it was about. I spoke of it in therapy but received little insight about the meaning of its appearance.
In my meditation at the ranch, this image reappeared and I wondered why. The answer came to me quickly. I sensed that something was wrong with the picture. The little girl was alone. Looking more closely, I saw that her face was sad. Where was her mother? The little girl, me, said, “I did it wrong. I didn’t do it right.” (I was referring to having come into this world sick.) My mother then appeared and gave me the thumbs-up. “You did it right!” she said. The little girl–me–was immediately affected as if pierced by a ray of light. She brightened, raised her hand, and gave the thumbs-up gesture. The movie ended as we were both giving each other this sign of triumph.
As a small girl, I came into this world with a physical problem. I felt that by bringing sickness to my mother and to my family, I had done something terribly wrong. Why did I feel this way? As I grew up, when my mother spoke of the operation, she basically always put it like this: You were in terrible shape (“… tubes coming in and out of every opening!”), but once you were operated on, you were perfect. This statement confused me. She seemed to be saying that since the operation was successful, I was perfect but not before. I was who she wanted, yet I was not.
My meditation solved this problem once and for all. In my inner movie, I appeared as a child in all my grief. I laid out my concern. My mother dispelled my doubt and announced my rightness. This simulation was no mere product of mind control or wishful thinking. This little girl appeared as a vehicle of communication from my soul or inner spirit. She let me know that the way that I had learned to think about my life was affecting me negatively. My story needed reworking. I was perfect for me and for my mother. I was perfect even with my pyloric stenosis. I was born to my mother, and I did it right. Interestingly, this message actually reflects what my mother truly felt.
A few years ago in a dream, I received an image of my mother crying tears of joy at my birth! I wrote to her about it, and she affirmed that my being born was one of the best things that had happened in her life. Her true feeling regarding my birth was joy but in her life, an equally dominant vibration was that of disappointment. The truth is, I was sick, and my being born to her was right for me and right for my mother.
I was always a beautiful being. Whatever health challenge(s) we face at the beginning of life or whenever, we are perfect beings, thumbs-up whatever the circumstances.