Kaleidoscope of Life
I love Kaleidoscopes. As a kid I could stare up for hours watching the ever changing landscape through the lens. Fast or slow it was beautiful. Even odd shapes or designs were magnificent. Each change brought with it wonder and awe and anticipation of what feast for the eyes the next click would bring.
As I reflect on this week’s topic which is to share who I am, I realize that life too is like the kaleidoscope. I AM like the kaleidoscope. Evolving, blossoming, never knowing what the next click will bring but anticipating the beauty that surely comes with it.
I am a giver, I am a healer, I am now also a receiver.
I have always known I had a purpose here. From a very young age I was a nurturer, I was a helper, I was a giver. A giver of my time, of my ear, of my affection, of my heart to help and bring light to others. It’s no surprise that I found energy healing. Or maybe more prophetically that I found my way home to energy healing.
It’s been a journey. A journey fraught with ups, downs, tears and joy and growth and a veritable metamorphosis. While the giver and the healer came quite naturally, here’s the story of how I have also come to embrace, accept and receive also. It’s been many clicks in that kaleidoscope of life.
Once upon a time, actually five years ago, my son underwent brain surgery in an attempt to stop his seizures. I thought that was going to be the hardest thing we would have to do for our son. I was wrong. While home and healing he went through a horrific 24 hours of seizure activity. WTF?!?! Literally my first reaction, these were supposed to be gone! This was to be a thing of the past. The next blow came when we got the call from the hospital to say that they had analyzed the brain tissue that they had removed only to find that the seizures were actually a side effect of a more sinister problem which lay in a full out inflammation of the left hemisphere of the brain. They gave it a name. We Googled it. It was dreadful and came with dreadful outcomes. I became clinical. My university studies in hard science and psychology were coming in handy. I could read clinical papers and understand the language used when looking at the neurophysiology of his brain. I shoved my feelings down. Way down.
I shared very little with people on what was going on, I avoided often answering the phone for fear of burdening others with my problems and poured myself into clinically supporting my son. And I gave. I gave all of myself during week long stays at the hospital. I gave all of myself to a job that I was fairly new in, working in the middle of the night when my son slept to somehow feel like I was pulling my weight with my work. I remember being scolded by a nurse at 4 am that I was going to be no use to my son if I wasn’t taking care of myself. She was of course right. I couldn’t see it. My ego told me I was the multi tasking master. More tests, more treatments. All failed. All the while family, friends, co-workers offering support, to help, to come to the hospital to bring food. And I REFUSED it all. I took it, if they just showed up of course but my response if I was asked given the choice, “Thank you, you’ve got so much going on in your life, we are good, we’ve got this”. Of course we weren’t good. I think I thought I was protecting them. I realize now, I was protecting myself, if I didn’t talk about it, I didn’t have to face the feelings. More treatments, more failures. Chemotherapy was the breaking point for me. I was raw by the time we got to that therapy. I wanted so desperately for a change, an improvement for my son. My spidey senses were tingling, SCREAMING DON’T DO IT, but come on, use your brain, not your “gut”. And it turned out to be the worst of all the therapies. He got so sick and his seizures doubled in frequency and intensity. We abandoned the treatment and thank heavens in that time I came across my angel, my healer and the gift of Huna healing.
Interestingly, it was in this time, when my son was showing signs of improvement with this non invasive, non clinical methodology that I fell apart. Literally. In this time of finally relaxing a bit my body betrayed me. The tears started to flow and it was like a broken faucet. For 2 weeks straight I cried.I couldn’t stop the flow of tears. I couldn’t work. I couldn’t function. And yet, he was on his way to being stable. I had no choice, I had to pull myself together. My previous stress busters were killer bootcamps and high intensity runs. I physically couldn’t. What was left? I worked on my mind. I worked on my spirit. I learned to meditate. I learned to breathe in the beauty of a walk in nature. I learned to colour. I reconnected with my love to read and read and read and read some more. And slowly my cup was filled. In this time I built up my knowledge and practice of Huna healing, both on myself and my son and it expanded to support others in their healing. In my learning too I became surrounded by a new tribe of like minded empathic people learning and sharing Huna with one another and with their circles. I fell into blogging and also grew my tribe with these incredible people. So why do I share all this?
For 2.5 years, my son has officially been stable in his condition. I have been growing steadily with my mindfulness, with my writing, with my healing. It’s been beautiful. It’s been peaceful. 5 days ago we got news from the hospital that we were not expecting. We breezed in for our semi annual check in expecting the same thing we’ve been hearing, no change all looks good. Except this time there was a change. The scans revealed a slow but steady change. We are heading to the hospital tomorrow for an extended stay. So I sit, and I try to process. And I look at the parallels in this time vs 5 years ago when we got news we didn’t see coming. It’s like the Kaleidoscope has come back to the start point again. Here’s my test. Here’s my opportunity to change the trajectory of what happens now. Or at least how I react now. I love the quote from Einstein “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.” I KNOW I want a different outcome. And I know that retreating, hiding, doesn’t work. My brilliant friend told me, “don’t do that thing where you stop answering the phone”…..ha…she knows me well. So little step. I am still answering the phone. But more than that. I am reaching out for help. I actually took vacation time. I am NOT bringing my work with me to the hospital. Instead I will be 100% present with my son and with my feelings. Another small step. I reached out to my Huna circle, my tribe as I call it, and immediately was bombarded with coffee invites, phone calls and uplifting messages and guidance. Even though I know these people have their own busy lives and storms raging, I accepted. I actually accepted the calls and the coffees. And I found peace in those conversations. I found hope. I reached out to my family to tell them we will be in hospital and here’s what’s happening, and again I am getting so much love in the way each of them can give love and you know what, it doesn’t make me weak. In fact I am feeling so much stronger and so much braver with an army of love in my corner to help me and keep me strong so that I can overflow that strength and love to be there for my son. I am reminded to meditate and practice my healing. I put out there that I needed help and look at that I am manifesting the help I need in the most amazing ways.
I am blessed to be able to share my story and in so telling it and learning from it I am healing, so I thank you for allowing me to share it. And in so receiving your love, know that I am also giving it back exponentially. In a small way I hope that sharing my story will bring peace and hope to someone who needs it.
I don’t know what the next click of the kaleidoscope will deliver, but I am ready to face it with my new tools and to see the beauty in each moment, because yes even in the crappiest moments there is beauty.
I am a giver. I am a healer. I am a receiver.