To be honest, I didn’t know if I was simply grieving Mom’s death, or if something was happening inside of me. I just felt this confusing mix of heaviness, and then a feeling as though a burden had lifted. I immediately felt guilty about this.
“I am sorry Mom but to be truly honest with you, I feel guilty but it was a bit of a relief when you decided to let go. The journey had been exhausting. For both of us, and I wasn’t able to see clear to it ending. I didn’t want the finality of it, but my heart could not take watching you be in so much pain anymore.”
“And so, I have to say I am sorry, but it was becoming too much to bear”. And as though she was with me, I heard her say. “I too felt guilty for leaving you all, but I also felt relief from feeling like a burden. I could not have done it without you honey, but now it needs to be about you. Promise me”.
I don’t know if these conversations were just my mind playing tricks on me, but they had been happening since she left. I also didn’t care, they brought me great comfort to think that she was with me. I would be thinking about something and I would hear her add her two bits to the conversation. It’s hard to explain but I just knew it was her. We thought very differently about many things, and so I knew these thoughts were not my own.
And so I started on a mission to understand and heal. I had read about something called ‘soul splits’, essentially it was when a piece of your soul suffers a trauma, and that part of your soul stays stuck in that event. I thought that this is probably what had occurred to me at the age of three, and that if I was going to mend this broken piece then I was going to have to understand and work with this little girl.
I began by journaling, writing has always been my way of dealing with things and getting my head out of the way so that my heart can be felt. I had never really taken the time to really stop and allow myself to feel, so I decided that this was exactly what I would need to do.
I needed to review my life, starting from the trauma and see what I remembered. So I decided I needed to open up a conversation with this little girl. So I wrote her a note as follows:
Dear Beautiful little girl,
I am wondering if I somehow left you behind, and was wondering if you would be willing to talk to me and perhaps be my friend. I feel as though you have some things to tell me, and I want you to know that I am listening.
I Love you
This began our relationship, and strangely I felt as though I could feel her around me. I framed her little picture, and put it on my dresser so that I could talk to her everyday. I decided that this was necessary, as she was seeking out my attention, and it wouldn’t be wise to ignore her anymore. If she truly was a hurt little girl, then I needed to love and honor her exactly the way that I would for either of my children. Every morning, I would invite her to walk with me as I walked the provincial park near my home. I felt a little crazy doing this, but decided it was required.
In order to come to understand her better, I decided to use a method that I had learned in The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself .
Michael Singer taught a method of sitting back, and playing the role of a silent observer listening to the voices in your head. To simply not engage, but listen to what was happening inside your head. You became the Silent Observer.
To be honest, this was incredibly hard for me and my busy head, and some days were better than others. Eventually I learned to just quiet my mind, and see what came up.
Once I achieved a little quiet in this crazy mind of mine, memories started to flood me. I remembered being told that I had caught my arm in the wringer washer all the way up to the shoulder, trying to help my Mother with the wash. She didn’t ask me, I just wanted to help apparently. I saw a little girl counting parcels on the bus. She seemed panicked that something would be left behind. I saw a student working hard to get everything right. All of the images she seemed to be on high alert. There were not a lot of memories and they all looked the same. A state of panic. That is how they appeared to me. It made me sad and my heart felt heavy to see her and tears started to fall. I let them. My immediate instinct was to stop them, and pull it all together. But I couldn’t, this time I felt powerless to do anything about it. Shame filled me. Shame that I couldn’t stop the emotion from running rampant. I wrote it off to grief, but was it? I wasn’t sure.
I veered off to a spot by the river and just let them fall. Then a lightness enveloped me, and I swore I heard a little voice say “That feels oh so good”.
“What!” I admonished. “Seriously, you are just going to have me crying my eyes out in public”.
“Maybe I will”. With that I was powerless to do anything but smile, and as I walked I spotted an eagle flying above me. Not sure if it was my imagination, but I swore she was skipping beside me the whole way home. I noticed birds, flowers things just seemed to pop out at me. And I felt light, lighter than I can remember feeling in a long time.
When I got home, I looked up the symbolism of an eagle flying above you, to find: The eagle appears to you as a sign of victory. You will experience a breakthrough shortly and this will propel you ahead. Whenever the Bald eagle appears to you, it is a sign that changes are forthcoming. And a reminder that you will fly high above, while doing so.
All right then, I thought this should be interesting!