I was arguing with someone who accused me of my website looking like one big ad. Then I woke up, still defending myself. When I realized it was a dream I knew there was no argument. Both voices were mine. That’s when I knew it was time to begin writing about my Shamanic Soul Retrieval experience. It’s just over a week since the healing ceremony and I finally feel I’m beginning to understand what happened.
The healing actually began before my appointment with the shaman Carol Tunney. I was reading a book she recommended Soul Retrieval by Sandra Ingerman in which there was an exercise that had something to do with looking at a baby photo of yourself. I was reading in bed, bundled under the comforter and had no intention of doing the exercise. I don’t even have a photo of myself as a baby. But my mother has a million and one that used to hang on the wall of her porch came to mind. A chubby baby with a big round head, shinning eyes and smiling face, my older brother and sister on either side of me. And for the first time, I realized that I was repulsed by this baby. That I thought her disgusting, simple and stupid in her innocence. Then I cried. I’ve never been drawn to babies, I learned to say the right things when visiting a friend or relative and their new baby, but I never felt it, never had the urge to hold or feed or care for baby or have one of my own. Now I understood why and the feeling of loss was vast. So I cried some more and when Jon came to bed, I told him and cried again.
The next day I had a massage appointment. I told my masseuse, Mandy that I wanted the massage to be about opening me up to healing. (Carol had instructed me to have this intention each night before going to bed and writing down my dreams if I remembered them). I laid on my back and Mandy began her energy work. I don’t know what she does, but she focuses around my head, neck and shoulders, the palms of my hands and souls of my feet. Later Mandy would tell me what she was seeing. A knot of stringy things, like a sea anemone, over my heart slowly untangling themselves and opening up, then a vortex of swirling color around my body. I was experiencing something visually different, specific to me, but with the same effect.
I was standing up, holding a baby polar bear, like I might hold a child, in my arms. And as I pressed it to my heart, I realized it wasn’t a polar bear, but a baby, dressed in a white furry hooded coat. The love, caring and protection that I was feeling for the polar bear was transferred to the baby. Tears ran down the sides of my face as I lay on the massage table.
The next day Carol told me that I had already begun the work of finding the lost parts of myself. The unloved baby would come up again during the healing ceremony. But even before that, I could feel the change in myself. A love, acceptance and compassion for the untainted innocence and joy of life that had been lost inside of me. Buried beneath, cynicism, contempt and sarcasm. It was the first step in this new kind of healing for me. I was excited, I wanted more. And it would come.
(Well, I can see I’m not going to get this all out in one blog post. It’s going to take a few rounds. So I’ll call this part one and continue writing about it later.)