I left, to save myself.
I didn’t stay, to protect them.
~*~*~*~
I read somewhere recently about human survival instinct, how a drowning man would pull you down to save himself. It was a cautionary tale, not to advise against heroicism or altruism, but more to be aware of the tendency in some people to out-prioritize their own needs with others’ needs. There can come a point where one is over-depleted and can no longer help others or themselves. Don’t get to that point. It could be a long journey back.
~*~*~*~
Right now, he is fighting for his life. Maybe he’s not fighting. Maybe he’s just in between right now. He IS alive. His heart is beating. He hasn’t woken up. Maybe it will be like a reboot, and things will just come back online soon. That is my hope.
I keep waffling between my inner knowing and my outer doubting, through the certainty that he’s coming back, born again with important tales to tell of his time in between, in the allness, of being in the light and being the light. He will be renewed and convicted and impassioned by the things he learned in his time away. He will want to return, to share these important things with us! And then the physically constrained thoughts surface, in the form of doubt and despair, that his physical body is overwhelmed, that he will decide he’s too tired to fight to come back.
Some of my siblings are assembling. Those who can are on their way to be with him, in person. I’m home. I took the day off to be still and weave an entangled web of love through the ether joining with them, healing with them in the only way I know how to help right now. I can’t go. Not yet. My physical self can’t be around them, where I will be faced with the outer doubting and crumble in the combined fear and sorrow and helplessness. My internal self is with them, where I am strong, where I can draw from the energy of heaven, and build my strength, as I’m joined through the ether with them, weaving a golden web of light around us all. Healing us. Protecting us. Nourishing us. Warming us. Strengthening us. All of us.
~*~*~*~
So many of us, my siblings and I, seem out of phase with our physical selves, these vessels that contain us, like we are strangers in a strange land. Foreigners. These physical bodies seem so unfamiliar, like we just can’t seem to align our mental selves with our physical selves. We are bewildered when we encounter health issues, surprised by their appearance, which is no surprise at all to those on the outside looking in.
~*~*~*~
An epiphany. Wanting and needing so desperately to focus my thoughts and intents on him, this brother I barely know, finding my untamed thoughts constantly turning this into something about me, wrestling with the ensuing self-disgust, jolting my thoughts back. What about them? How terrified and shaken they must be, especially those closest in the lineup, those who grew up with him. Recoiling at my self-absorptive ugliness forced me to think of them, to look at things through their eyes, and to have compassion for the turmoil of their shaken hearts in the face of this tragic uncertainty. We have so many complex interrelationships with and amongst each other, some alliances, some factions, some solid, some fragile. Through it all, we have a certain thread that bonds us all, something deep and internal. How they need assurance and hope and comfort. This I can do. What they need, I can give. This is where I am strong. I tap into that thread and connect it to the mainline and let the love and healing flow. We feel each other’s love, which isn’t constrained by time or space. We are connected. I send them strength, from the inside out.
~*~*~*~
I had to save myself, to help them.
