I found my 4 pennies yesterday while at work. In the back pocket of a pair of jeans I rarely wear, while standing outside watching the thunderstorm and sliding my hands in the back pockets because these jeans do not have front pockets. I could feel there was money, but as I had not purchased anything yesterday, there was curiosity about where the change came from. Having totally forgotten about my pennies these last few weeks with everything else happening in my thoughts, I was pleasantly surprised at my discovery. At the time of my perceived loss, I was sure every pocket had been checked, even back pockets, but they were not found. It seems another lesson must be acknowledged, this one about truly letting go.
How interesting, at the time of finding these pennies yesterday, I was talking with a young woman about exactly this…..letting go. I said to her, “have we really let go if we are still triggered by what happened?” I feel, after finding the pennies yesterday, I understand on a deeper level, how letting go feels. I believed the pennies were gone – they arrived through “Spirit”, they were taken by “Spirit”, which allowed me to “let them go”. Letting go of what happens to us physically or mentally is not so easy as there are constant reminders of what was experienced. The pennies were gone, there was no reason to hope they would return. I saw them as a lesson from the day they arrived. So could this mean the trauma continues to remind us (through triggers) until we are able to accept this pain is no longer necessary for our spiritual growth? As I’ve said in the past on different occasions, this is my path, everything experienced necessary for deeper understanding and awareness. It is my personal journey showing me how to return to higher understanding and the deep peace which comes from getting there.
Papa said he would stay until I find my own voice, with me no longer influenced by living through his story. Our paths, of course are connected, but we did not have the same journey – we made choices based on our experiences, as does everyone. He became the aggressor on his journey, dropping his medical bag and picking up the gun. I have been the victim, but now understand being a victim is a choice. It is time to become a voice of strength and courage for those who cannot find it themselves.
The shaman gave me an image of how papa sees me, which was quite interesting. It made me laugh because it is so different from how I have always seen myself. For now I will keep it to myself as I’m meant to paint this version of myself to be an inspiration – so not just a voice, but an image. I understand this process of painting my portrait, as with all the other images done over the years, I will learn and then be able to feel an aspect of myself which papa, and perhaps others have always seen. I have maintained over the years that each image drawn or painted have been pulled from the depths through the eyes of each subject, an aspect of my personality which was locked away. Those aspects have always come from animals, birds and insects. This will be the first time finding it in my own eyes. So of course papa understands my process and is guiding me to step out of the third person way of finding myself. Just as going to Bolivia got me to be in my story, no longer walk beside it, this painting will encourage me to see the truth in my own eyes and begin walking in my own shoes as I did when I was a child.
This led me to realize something about my father this morning and our relationship, as well as his relationship to the world. When they killed him, it was with the hope of destroying his powerful presence, however they only enhanced it. He never died to those he really mattered to, he maintains a presence in the hearts of many worldwide. So they did not remove who papa was to the world, they just removed him from my life. This is how they stole my identity. This is how they shattered my spirit and encased my heart in pain.
Who papa was to me was not the same as who he was to everyone else. Who he was, his love for me, all buried beneath the trauma, they hoped, forgotten forever. Just like the pennies, he has been with me all along, hidden in a secret compartment in my heart. Love is never gone, it sustains us even when we believe it has deserted us. Just like the pennies, papa came back to me so I could remember the truth of who I am, what they were really trying to destroy. Unfortunately, there was need to go through the pain in order to remember the love. Accepting the truth is helping me to let go of the pain from what was done to prevent remembering who I am.
Returning from Bolivia, I not only unpacked all my belongings, I unpacked all the anger, sorrow and loss buried as deep as the memory of my father. This is part of the grieving process, this acceptance of all the emotions tied together. They taught me to be afraid of who I am, papa is reminding me to embrace who I was and see who I have become because of my journey. I concede to the fact the triggers will always be there, it is the fear of them which needs to be let go, not the experience. The experiences became the cornerstone of who I am today. By letting go of the fear, the love will have room to grow, not just for myself, but there can then be space for others.
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