Doctors With Reiki: Regeneration

The wind is blowing very hard right now outside my window. It's dark, the world is asleep, and I enjoy the peace.

The last two days have been really rough. Through no fault of my own, and through the development of others, I got sucked in and it's been getting me down. If I had more sleep, I would be more resilient.

Yesterday, when I sent the Reiki, I was the weakest I have ever been...I was exhausted, and could barely make the symbols...as an outside observer of life, which I always am, I could see the light of Reiki flowing through me, like a lens, and it went to where it needed to go. All I had to do was say, 'yes'. Reiki is a partnership with Spirit. If I hadn't been so exhausted and depressed, I wouldn't have had a good look at my counterparts who send the Reiki through. Reiki is pure, intelligent, and loving. It will go where it is needed to go.

Did I Reiki myself?

No. I couldn't even think of it, I was too tired and sleepy. All I wanted was sleep!

In my powerful co-creation on my last call, I co-created some beautiful moments. I was doing what I had trained to do, for all these many years--taking care of the weakest and the most precious souls with a smile, an open heart, and the skill I've developed over the decades of my career.

I was happy.

There was an emergency case scheduled to go at five a.m. I really hadn't eaten dinner, I came home around nine p.m. , and BOOM!

It was world war three between father and son. And father had taken away son's right to play in his next basketball game.

I got sucked into the drama.

I'm grateful son texted mom, and communication was open, I could give support.

Dad texted me too, once, and I could tell he was really upset.

Then my post call day, instead of sleeping and self-care, was damage control...

I met with the school to find out why there's so much homework, could it possibly be given at the beginning of the week and we could work ahead to avoid conflicts on basketball practice days?
I spoke on the phone with the math teacher who is assigning so much work.
I spoke on the phone with Jared. I understood his point, but it hurt. It hurt because I'd invited my family to watch our boy play, it hurt because he wanted to take away something that would 'get to him' (in my opinion, crying for an hour is too much for learning, it's cruel, and taking away an electronic device or restriction would have been more effective)...but I was calm.
I spoke with our therapist, it's my appointment day anyhow. It's not easy being a single mom. It really isn't. And the lady who started counseling Anthony is still helping our family unit through my weekly visits--which are more like twice a month due to my work schedule.

Anthony will suit up, and sit out the game, according to coach, who I asked Jared to speak to regarding his play.

Last night, we were driving home from the counselor, and I was recalling Ross in his most handsome times in life...I was happy to enjoy these memories. Then, gently, Ross asked me, 'what was I like in death?'

I struggled to find the words. It was a nightmare, I told him, quietly.

I remembered. I remembered how awful he looked, and how determined I was to give him a proper burial. How I worked furiously over the body, in tears, preparing it as was our custom.

My energy took a total swan dive off a cliff.

I confessed to Ross how I am always afraid I will have those images of his face all distorted and disfigured pop up. They are intrusive. And also is the wound on his side.

I don't like having those memories in me, and I don't know what to do about it, so I just go on.

The song changed from Nat King Cole First Noel, to the Trans Siberian Orchestra Sarajevo song.

Yup. That's me. Been through war, spiritual attack, big time...the music was how I felt.

At home, before dinner, Anthony was reading his phone while on the toilet, and he said, 'hey mom!' and 'I want you to look at what they found that's in the news'.

It was a lead book, with ancient text and an image, from a cave up in remote areas of Jordan. It spoke about a religion that honored both the Divine Feminine and the Divine Masculine...I smiled inside...the Essenes but the archeologists don't know it.

Anthony asked me a question point blank. Mom, is that you?

I answered him directly. I also answered that until people are at the vibration where nothing needs to be explained, there's no use in saying anything to anyone, because it makes no difference.

What matters most now anyway is that we help people, like I did with my wonderful patients, in the time we are incarnate.

This morning, I couldn't sleep. I was meditating and thinking about my far past, and the horror...as well as the basketball game.

I explained to Ross how people hurt me so much, sexually, while he was alive(on his long travels) and even more after he died, and how devastated I was to have experienced that. How could people have been so cruel, and mean? He was kind and said it didn't matter to him at all, it changes nothing in how he feels about me.

It's not just the PTSD of watching his life end tragically, it's also what happened to me too. Both together are a bit too much. I don't know how to cope, or heal from it. He was soothing, promised me never again, and for the thousandth time, showed me his face and his body as WHOLE, with no harm to it, and let me see for myself he's okay. We do this so often together! Out of the blue, I panic, and he reassures me--see my face is like always, I'm okay! I feel fine. And--'it won't ever happen again'...I feel like it never heals, like we never make progress because the old ghosts in the closet keep coming back again and again, often when I least expect them. And I feel no matter how much love and reassurance Ross shows, unfortunately for him, it is a drop in the bucket on my end. I worry I exhaust him with my need to be reassured he is OKAY...like a two year old...again and again and again.

I am grateful for his patience.

Raphael came to me early this morning. I shared about the basketball game, how I was sad. I'm not sure what he did, but the pain in my heart felt a lot better. He said that sometimes days like this are the raw materials God uses to make good things, like miracles, and to watch and see. He said observing is a good option to take when things do not go our way; Creator often has the final say and the upper hand in the long-term outcome for the highest good.

I won't let a guide go away without a parting gift, especially when I am grateful.

I gave him this:

I explained to him how in Flanders Field they cover the horror from the carnage and the death, how poppies are good things, and how their simple beauty inspires us all here on earth.

I don't know why, but at this, Raphael started to sob. He said, 'that was beautiful' and he completely understood my point, of how love and beauty cover all darkness in the end...I held him and thanked him again for his kindness to me.

There IS only Love.

One day people like Jared will recognize it.

It's not Jared's version of 'love' (3D, duality based discipline) verses 'mine' (5D, lead by example).

It's just like Creator creates...