The Singing Rooms…

I began the morning uninspired, wondering where I fit in, who my community and support were and where was I supposed to be.  Life has been changing, and for the first time in over a decade, I don’t have a plan.  The affect of uncertainty when accompanied by being financially downgraded is a feeling I liken to crud.  Worthlessness.  When that lie sags around your awareness it’s hard to feel like life is going to be ok.

I call my Medicine Man…a friend I trust.  Just to hear a voice of kindness, leadership affords me just enough leverage to roll aside the obstacles which seem impossible to move.  Soon enough, I am tinkering with technology, knowing it’s time, again, to connect on the level of ‘medicine’.  I’m stuck, I tell him…I don’t know if I belong, this club feels too exclusive.  I express worry about transitions, my profession and purpose, my hope for happiness…a home.

We begin to track back…looking at how I relate to the feelings…and this by manner of suggestion with our intention to explore and touch these old theories.  I closed my eyes, already crying.  My journey began.  The images having meaning…the messages being clear, in the form of story and image, it’s a language I am familiar with.  I arrived at a room I knew well from my past and I saw myself singing…not anything fancy, but a hymn…a chant.  As I sang the bad memories couldn’t stay any longer.  I was then in another room, which I had heavy, old, sad memories.  I sang in that room…then another.

When I finally spoke, as I broke our meditative solitude, I told the Medicine Man about the singing rooms.  The tears were of joy for feeling human during this journey work…for the one person being present and available which could support and love me through this moment of my story from a place of balance and trusting I am doing the work which makes my Soul strong.  It’s priceless to feel sincerely believed in…to be heard for the promise I hold, the dirt and the seeds.  My brown face isn’t foreign or suspicious to him, but welcome.  We all have rooms we need to sing in, he said, simply and with grace.  He thanked me for sharing my wisdom.

He spoke of allowing all of these parts and stories to exist and to let them speak, to hear their story.  I thank him.  It’s good to feel human again.

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