Taking The Risk…

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
~*~ Anaïs Nin ~*~

Dear Ones… the day has come…

Was it when I was a little girl, nine years old, hiding under the forsythia bushes and writing in my little red spiral notebook with my 19 cent Bic stick pen, afraid to come out, that I learned to use writing to heal myself? Did thirty plus years of teaching a very deep, spiritual writing/journal class and listening to my student’s stories move me to realize that all of our stories are important, even though we often don’t think that our own are? I smile a little to myself thinking of those first nights when we would go around the room, introduce ourselves, and say just a word or two. Inevitably there would be one shy woman in the back who would say, barely above a whisper, “I probably won’t have anything interesting to write about, I’m just a housewife,” and I can tell you that I knew, even as she said it, that her writing would blow us all out of the water, and it did. We look at other people’s lives, amazed at who they are, at what they have accomplished, and we feel that we have somehow fallen short. We see our faults and foibles, we tally up our failures, we let the world around us judge who we are and what we are doing and allow them, no, allow ourselves, to be influenced by their opinions. Finally, one day, we begin to outgrow the confines of the sheath of the bud around us, and we begin to burst forth, we begin to be who we really are, and it can be shocking, terrifying, awesome, and we begin, trembling, the journey of discovering all of who we are, and take those gifts and talents out into the world. I have begun to burst forth, out of the bud. I am blossoming.

I am blossoming because I am gathering up these gifts into my basket, turning them over and looking at them closely, and without judgment I am beginning to use them. I am owning my gifts and talents, many I have used since I was young, or for decades, shyly, not daring to let them shine forth from the center of who I was. I thought about my life, the abused girl, the frightened woman, the bi-polar individual, the woman married nearly three decades and, finally, and gently, came out as a lesbian, with a quiet pride, a softness, viewing the world around me with new eyes. I mourned the loss of lifetime friends even as I maintained a close and dear relationship with the husband I would not legally divorce for six years and did my best to nurture my nearly adult children through the changes. I was the broken one, hiding in a cocoon of safety, not leaving my new little home for a dozen years. And then my world began to change, and it would still take a couple of years before I would, tentatively, begin to venture out. And when I did, when I began to let the outer skin tear and begin to fall away, the petals pushing their way into the sunlight, I saw that the gifts came from God, that they were good, that they were to be celebrated, even if many of the people I knew of different faiths did not understand. I have lost friends through many of the changes in my life. I bless them and I let them go.

I have so much love in my heart. Love to give, love to share, and yes, love to receive. I have loved a woman for ten years and celebrate that love with all my heart even if it is too complex for most people to understand, and even though we have been separated for some time because of her work somewhere else in the world, my love only grows stronger, and she lives in my heart. While she is doing her work, I am doing mine, and I trust that one day we will come back together again, walking quietly together through the rest of our days, loving one another gently and with respect. I know that she will understand and accept me in a way no other ever has. She saw the strength in me before I saw it myself. She said to me, “You are not your diagnoses,” and my whole world shifted on it’s axis. She saved me without even realizing that she did, and I brought something to her too. She is my soul-mate, and there is nothing more beautiful in the world. As I blossom that is part of the blossoming too.

I can tell you that when I hold crystals in my hand, crystals that are all around me, that line the top of my computer keyboard, crystals that I never take off, I am healed and I will use them to heal others. They are minerals mined from deep in the earth and they have their own vibrations as we do. I can tell you that I will use them all the days of my life, sitting with large ones in my hands and lap as I meditate, laying them on the bodies of people that I heal. I can tell you that a tiny pug that came into my life blind and afraid now not only follows me all over the yard but has done things I was told that she would never do. I was told that she couldn’t use the stairs, and at first I carried her up and down every step we encountered. I held her in my lap and did Reiki on her. One day, to my utter amazement, she ran ahead of me, up the stairs and into the house before I could catch up with her. Another day I said to the three pugs, “Time to go out,” and then I realized I had an almost finished e-mail that I needed to quickly finish and send before I lost it. The boys went through the dog door out onto the deck, down several stairs and out into the yard. When I finished I got up and called her, “Penny,” I called, “Pennnnyyyy,” and I could find her nowhere. Much to my surprise the boys came bursting back through the dog door with her right on their heels. Boom, through the plastic flap came the little blind girl that couldn’t do stairs, and I laughed out loud for so long I didn’t think I could stop. I would never have let her do it on her own and I still go out with her every single time she goes out to go potty, but I don’t carry her down the stairs anymore, I am beside her as she goes down the stairs and out into the yard to do her business, and even then she is back up the stairs and into the house before I can catch up to her. She is my little miracle and I love her so much it is impossible to describe it. There isn’t a word big enough.

I don’t just credit the reiki and sometimes she still bumps into things in areas she is uncertain of, but she runs all over the house, knows where all the beds are and the numerous bowls of water, where I am and where her pug brothers are, she knows so much more than I ever dreamed she might. I credit the reiki, I credit the crystals I used with her, I credit God and the angels that surround her, that surround all of us, and most of all, I credit love. I believe that at the heart of every healing modality there must be a heart so full of love that it opens wide, a channel, to allow the healing energies to flow through them and to the one we are blessed to be allowing this energy to move through, gliding through our bodies, our hands, and into the etheric and then physical bodies that rest under our hands.

I have titles, but I don’t use them. I am an ordained interfaith minister, Reverend Mother Maitri Libellule. I am a teacher of over thirty years. I am a healer of mind, body, and spirit, and now a Reiki Master. By the end of the month I will be a Master Healer in the Shamballa method, an integral part of the development and meshing of all of my talents, brought together in one complex whole. They all weave their way through my writing. I have, at 57, brought all of these gifts together and they are coming together like a tapestry, all of a piece. I was afraid before but now I am ready. I am ready and it is time. The risk to remain tight in the bud is no longer an option. It is time to blossom.

And so I don’t use the titles. I am simply Maitri, the name that I took legally in 2005 because it is the Buddhist teaching of loving-kindness and compassion, and the heart of that teaching is that we must first have it for ourselves before we have it to give to another. It has taken me decades and a lot of work to have it for myself, but with enough therapy and spiritual seeking and growth, which will be ongoing, I am now ready. I am still a little afraid, but I will walk through the fear. It is time. We use the gifts that are given us or they die inside of us, wither, and we carry those lost gifts in the pit of our stomachs. I believe that this causes physical disease and mental unrest. I believe not allowing all of who we are hurts us, even if those we most love don’t understand, even if we lose friends, even if we see the fear and disappointment, perhaps rejection in their eyes, we bless them, while we love them freely and without exception, and we continue to move forward with all that we have learned, with all that we have let rise to the surface. This is not a choice, not if we are led to live the life that we were meant to.

I am studying using reiki with animals, a special calling of mine. I listen to my guidance and intuition. I offer praise and gratitude every single day of my life, over and over again, even as I write. Sometimes I don’t even realize what I have written until I am finished and I am surprised, even the next day, when I read it again, but I know that it comes from a special place so deep inside of me that it is like a river flowing. I am filled with thanks and praise, maybe just for myself, because they heal me, they empty me, to allow more to come in, more lessons, more spirit, more guidance, more unexpected gifts.

This reminds me of the famous Zen story of the Master and his student and the pouring of the tea. The Master asks the student to pour their tea and not to stop until he tells him to do so. The tea fills the cup and begins to overflow. The student looks desparately at the teacher who sits quietly allowing the tea to spill over the table, the floor and to keep flowing. The student pleas, “It can hold no more,” to which the Master replies, “This is how you come to me, with your mind so full of beliefs that you are not open to what I have to offer you. You must come with an open, empty mind, ready to receive, to make space for the lessons I have to give.” I am paraphrasing here but it is the same story. We can only learn if we are open to new truths. I am learning that over and over in my own life. I am not here to force my beliefs, even pressing them into the one before me ever so gently, if their beliefs are different than my own. I honor and respect the paths of all others. I am simply here as a channel of light for those who would come to receive what I have to offer, and I am quite satisfied with that. There is room, like in the open mind of the student, for many ways of being and believing, and part of my own healing, the heart of my own maitri, was accepting all of who I am, and then using the gifts that I know I was meant to use, for those who desire and need them. The bud began to open when I allowed this to happen. What a relief, what joy, what a blessing.

So I share my story with you. Yours will be different than my own but I pray that you will take the quote at the top and look at your own life and see how you might move from the bondage of the bud to the opening of the blossom, the sharing of all of who you are, despite the consequences, and, with comfort and joy, all of the blessings.

I offer you love, I offer you peace, I offer you all that I have inside of me. And so be it. And so it is.

With all the love in my heart…

If you enjoy this blog a donation would be deeply appreciated to help me continue to bring “Maitri’s Heart” to you. Thank you, and many deep blessings to one and all…

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