Nature’s Message to the Enthusiastic Healer

IMG_2741 Insight can come when you’re not expecting it. It isn’t necessary to pine for it. Go about your day and allow insight to surface. I was hunting for a new package of toothpaste this morning, and heard, “You didn’t respect so-and-so’s armoring.” It was a person from my past, and one I’d lost touch with quite some time ago.

Armoring is a concept that I’ve been investigating lately. Our bodies react to emotional and physical trauma by armoring energetically. I see this as an area of the body having its masculine and feminine energies out of balance. I was going to suggest that armoring is swinging too far into the masculine, but I think there are likely situations where moving and staying too far into the feminine is an armoring too. Whatever we feel we need to be safe will be the case.

Armoring with the masculine prevents an ability to receive or accept from others and still feel safe, and so spirit telling me that I had not respected someone’s armoring made sense. I am a fixer, but that isn’t always what is required. Self-realization is empowerment, and armoring allows for that recovery process. It can be a very long process, and it can be frustrating – both for the person healing and others who would have the person be healed. Excited well-wishers, healers, friends, the masses who want to make things right: pay attention. It’s not our job to dis-armor. People are to disarm themselves.

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I thought about this while taking my son to school, and I thought about it on the short ride home. This morning was gray and the streets were wet. Birds were darting out of trees to the pavement and back again. That’s when I saw one in my rearview mirror. It had been hit a few houses down from my own. I hadn’t hit it, but someone must have. It was flapping around helplessly. “Damn it,” I sighed, and pulled my car into the driveway. I can’t leave it there, and yet I can’t watch it suffer. I hate that. A whole serious of events plays out in my head as I grab a towel from my car and walk across my lawn toward the bird. Would I find someone willing to rehab a finch? Would I watch it die and have a poignant funeral? Would I photograph it? Then all of the sudden another bird flew down beside it, and in a flash both birds were up in a tall tree again. I don’t know what went on, but I wasn’t needed.

A wise healer must let people walk through their own ghosts, and this can change the color of the sky on the other side.

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