By Patricia Briggs
I realized during my self-healing journey that when I ventured into my heart chakra energy to consciously feel, I could not identify what emotion I was feeling. I was feeling something, but I could not put a name to it. I didn’t know if it was grief, love, or something else. As I reflected on this, I realized that I was out of touch with my emotions because I had compartmentalized them so efficiently. As I worked to get back in touch with my emotions, I started having different childhood memories return. I had not expected to find these treasures. Some of them held the keys to the mysteries of my adult life.
There is one specific childhood memory that I wish to share with you this Easter season.
My family lived in a small town in the country in western New York. We had neighbors on either side of us. Behind us, beyond our backyard, were woods that went for miles. My brother and I could spend a whole day in the woods and never see another person. It was our personal playground.
I enjoyed just being out in nature either with my brother or by myself. When I was by myself, I was not alone. I always had someone with me. It was a male spiritual presence that I just accepted as always being there. I would carry on conversations with this companion and the exchange would be back and forth. It felt natural and I never questioned it.
One day, I was by myself in the lower backyard on our swing set having a conversation with my companion. I think I was around 7 or 8 years old. I started getting overwhelmed and very agitated. In so many words, my companion said that very soon we would no longer be conversing. As I got more upset because I felt like he was abandoning me, he assured me that he would always be around me. I could not understand in my child brain how he could be around me, but we would not be talking. He was emphatic that this was going to be one of our last conversations for a long time.
I got off the swing feeling very hurt and started the short walk up the hill to the upper part of the backyard where my house sat. When I looked up, I saw the neighbor standing on the line between our two properties looking at me. This was not normal. He had never acknowledged my presence before.
He asked me in a gruff voice, “Who were you talking to?”
Suddenly, for the first time I could see what I looked like from another’s perspective.
I could see myself on the swing set having a conversation where I was talking out loud and responding like someone else was there. I acknowledged in that moment that my companion was invisible to other people. I didn’t know what this neighbor had heard. I already felt different from other children. But his question and my sudden perspective from his point of view made me feel downright odd. I didn’t know how to respond.
He didn’t move and waited for my answer.
Finally, I mumbled, “No one” and kept walking up and into my house.
When this memory came flooding back to me as an adult, I realized several things. This companion was probably my guardian angel. He had not deserted me. In a way I had deserted him when I denied his existence to my neighbor. I was the one that let him go. I was heartbroken to finally realize this is what he had been trying to tell me was going to happen when we were talking at the swing set. He had been trying to prepare me, rather than hurt me.
In recollection, it reminded me of the story of Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples; he predicted that Peter would disown him before morning (Gospels of the New Testament). Peter denied that it would happen, but it did. In so many words, my guardian angel had warned me that I would deny him which I did within moments of the warning. I didn’t believe him and argued with him because I wouldn’t believe that given the right circumstances, I would. My storyline is very similar to Peter’s. This gives me a new understanding and compassion for Peter. In our denials, we denied a very special relationship that was essential to our sense of well-being.
When I denied the existence of my guardian angel, I was overwhelmed by a slew of strong emotions; I was feeling anger, grief, guilt, shame, loss, and sense of abandonment. These emotions were too much for my system at this age. I started shutting myself down emotionally (and spiritually) by stashing everything away into compartments, so that I didn’t have to feel these overwhelming emotions. It is no wonder that I lost the childhood memory associated with these emotions.
Through the following years as I grew, in hindsight, I can see now that my spiritual connection and intuition were always there, just as he had told me they would be. However, my brain didn’t believe they were because I had verbally denied them when I was a child. Our brains are funny things. When we let things go, it is like they never were, sometimes. And that is scary to me! What other things am I unaware of? And their repercussions?
However this wasn't a bad thing in the long run, because it led to my own self-healing work. It led to the life I have lived!
Happy Easter!
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