M returned a week later like she said she would. She was buzzing with energy. Her lessons started as soon as I came back into the room.
“What is going on with your thyroid is not hereditary. You don’t need to worry about passing it along to your children. Do you know that your thyroid is in your throat chakra?”
“No.”
“Well it is. The throat chakra is associated with the colour blue. Have you tried reiki before?”
“No.”
“Do you meditate?”
“No. I tried before, but I fell asleep so I thought I was doing it wrong.”
“If you fell asleep, it just meant you were going to wherever it is you need to go. It might have been to the hallway of knowledge, or even the healing beds.”
I often felt like she was speaking another language.
“I am receiving a message for you. That message is ‘boundaries’. It can apply in many ways. Boundaries in relationships, and boundaries with your energy, and who you give it to. Take this world, for example, so many horrible things are happening, and people get consumed by them. They don’t maintain their boundaries. We have a job here on Earth. Our job is to teach, to learn, to observe without absorbing, and to observe without judgement. If you judge you receive. So set boundaries in your life, and control what you consume.”
I knew what she meant on many levels. Watching the political divides, the genocides and climate crisis. It was in your face every time you went online. I wasn’t sure how to observe without absorbing.
As a people pleaser, I knew I needed to stop saying yes to things I didn’t want to, simply to avoid disappointing others, because it was taking a toll on me.
“We are given lessons in life we are meant to learn from. That is our primary purpose here. If you don’t learn the lesson the first time, it comes back again tenfold. If you continue to not learn, that is when people can end up ill. If you are ill, it forces you to slow down and listen to yourself. Listen to what the universe is trying to teach you.”
My father always said I had to learn things the hard way. Was I facing consequences for that? I had very recently turned a positive corner in my life, but maybe it had more closely resembled someone erratically veering off a highway before they miss their exit.
When her appointment was over, she lingered in my room.
“A message came through for you several times. I am meant to tell you that you are very loved.”
Me, the by-product of domestic violence. The girl who resembled no one else her family, and used to ask if she was adopted. The girl who always had felt a little sad, and never quite like she fit in. Feeling loved was, and will always be a struggle for me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I love you,” she said. Then M walked out the door, and out of my life.
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