In early March, a friend called to catch up and I told her about my experience and my feeling of being broken-hearted. She said, “You need to see Shmuel Merimi.” This is the name I had paused on when I was looking for alternative healers so I took it as a sign.
Friday, March 13, 2020
I had an appointment with a Reiki practitioner a friend recommended. For months I have felt I have “Broken Heart Syndrome.” I had no idea what to expert from the healing modality. And I certainly didn’t expect the strange and mystical experience I had when I met Shmuel Merimi. Shmuel introduced himself and invited me to take a seat in the chair of his small practice space. He was polite and seemed genuinely kind. I sat down and he asked if he could take my hand. He placed his hand under mine and in an instant seemed to know everything about me. He knew I was afraid and hadn’t slept in a very long time. He knew my husband was abusive and could see that I needed to get away from him. He knew of my son and shared his own experience wanting to save his Mother. I cried so much in the office I was embarrassed. It felt shameful to think anyone else could see the torture I endured. That I almost didn’t make it out of that relationship alive. The psychological abuse that was akin to being held as a prisoner of war. I was so ashamed anyone could see into the life I was living. We talked for an hour. I didn’t expect this at all. I expected to lay on a table for an hour and be on my way. Instead, I felt cracked open and vulnerable. I don’t know how to describe what I experienced. I’ve never met anyone as clairvoyant as Shmuel and that’s saying something. After an hour had passed, I offered to reschedule the Reiki portion but he insisted I could stay and he could make it work. He went to the waiting room to see if his last appointment for the day had arrived (they hadn’t). How can I describe the effects of Reiki or having Shmuel work in my energy field? It was like meeting God. The warmth, energy, love, and vibration was real. I could feel energy moving through my body causing little pops and electrical sensations in random places (like my eyes).
I have been in therapy for six months. I have told my therapist everything, and described my abuse in detail, but the reality is, a therapist can’t see inside your life. They can only witness the description of your experience. The experience you share. I don’t think I shared the worst of it. I don’t think I could find words for the all day, every day criticism, gaslighting, pressure and harshness. Having another person witness my life through my eyes created a profound shift for me. I felt ashamed but also, free.
I left Shmuel’s office feeling lighter than I had in years… and smiling.
Just after my appointment, the government announced a non-essential business shutdown due to the pandemic.
March 17, 2020
I had a waking dream of a great crow clutching a glowing egg. I think, symbolically, I am the egg. Developing. All that has happened in my life thus far has been critical to my growth and evolution. I am under the protection of the Creator. I was shown a farm and saw a sign that read “White Crow Farms” and heard White Crow Medicine. As I continued to awaken, I was reminded of the experiences I have had these past days and understand now it is important that I write about them. Someday maybe my experience will help others heal. The appearance of the crow feels synchronistic given what I know about its reverence in Native and Indigenous wisdom and lore. In some cultures, it is believed to be a shapeshifter that can travel between physical and spiritual realms. Two nights ago, I was reading aloud from a book on Spiritualism just to hear a voice. I went into deep isolation in January and have lived in the dark and cut off from the world since that time. I needed to make sense of my husband’s torture of me. I needed to see him as a construct, a teacher. Then, deep in this work, the CoVid 19 outbreak became a reality and life as we know it seems over. I have been alone in my house with my dog learning to live in gratitude, breathe, sit in silence, listen, and cultivate the ability to generate love. Self love. I am also remembering and welcoming the return of my intuitive gifts. So, out of loneliness, I began to read “Rays of Light” out loud. I was once told that singing and reading aloud raises the vibration, which is why so many faiths sing in worship or practice the “call and response.” As I was reading, I noticed something fell from the spine of the book. I looked down and found a toothpick. I began to sob, recognizing it as a sign of my Grandfather, the most important, safe, and loving man in my life. Woodrow Wilson Eads alway had a toothpick in his mouth and every time I left after a visit, he would remove the toothpick from his mouth and give me a kiss. I felt him with me in that moment and in a vision unlike any I had before, wherein I could see two realities or dimensions at once, the room around me and the reality of a vision of the mind, my Grandfather stepped forward to comfort me. I could see and feel him with me just as he appeared in my room the night he died. I apologized to him for my mistakes and thanked him for his unconditional love. I thanked him for showing me a man can be big, brave and strong but embody compassion, love and empathy. I realized in this moment I was transported to my “safe place.” When Mitch hugged me, I felt the safety and security I felt as a child in my Grandfather’s arms. So it was confusing for me when Mitch became not safe and demonstrated he was not capable of empathy or love. I began to question reality and shifted from my inner child that found safety in my Grandparent’s arms and home to remembering what it felt like to be targeted and abused by my Father. My inner child needed to be freed from this prison of thought in order to move forward with clarity. I thanked my Grandfather and many others in spirit who stepped forward to acknowledge their presence with me… My grandmothers, uncles, friends. It was a very tearful reunion and one that was necessary. I thought my intuitive gifts were gone forever. During my relationship with Mitch, they diminished to nothing. My instincts were still there and I was able to channel creative ideas but I couldn’t reach the spirit world… or rather, it couldn’t reach me. It wasn’t possible with him around. Fear blocks the heart.
As I write this I remember many of the supernatural things that happened during the worst months of my relationship with Mitch. Even though my intuition and spiritual gifts were gone, spirit was manifesting in the form of things mysteriously locking/unlocking, turning off/on, or moving, like the night a wine bottle flew from its rack atop the fridge and whizzed past my head, smashing on the floor while others looked on in disbelief. During the months his abuse was increasing, there were multiple inexplicable infestations in our home, one after another. They came in separate and distinct waves, first flies, then millipedes, boxelder bugs, spiders, mice, lady beetles, and brown marmorated stink bugs. Each infestation would last around a week then after a reprieve the next would start. Once, thousands upon thousands of earthworms emerged from the earth around our home covering the sidewalk and driveway. I don’t mean a few earthworms emerged after rain… I mean every inch of sidewalk and driveway surface was covered. I’ve never seen anything like it. There was nowhere to walk without stepping on them. It seemed the natural world, which I was so far removed from at the time, was trying to get my attention.
March 19, 2020
I woke up to a voice saying “You must create every day.” I’ve been thinking so much about winged creatures since seeing the crow holding the egg. A few nights ago, I had a dream and was told to make a crow. So after giving this some thought (sculpture, drawing?) I decided to make a shawl - like a Native American dance or prayer shawl. I found my fabric remnant box in the basement, got my sewing machine out and just started going at it. There were fabrics from the entire span of my adult life - some decor fabrics from my first marriage, from Halloween costumes, from my wedding to Mitch. Some used to celebrate the births of babies. It felt so important and appropriate to make wings from these shards of memories. That somehow all of my choices and suffering, my happiness, joy and love brought me to this moment. I am lifting myself up - on my own - to my higher purpose. I created feather templates from actual feathers in my collection - feathers I have gathered over the years and cut fabric until my fingers were sore and blistered. By dinner this evening I had sewn the breast and had cut out a dozen larger feathers for the wings. When I am inspired in this way, I know it is from a higher place.
I have our security system app on my phone with views of our home and the studio (where Mitch is currently living). Around 4 this morning, I witnessed something strange - I mean really strange - synchronous. On the exterior studio camera a possum drags a headless rabbit to the passenger door of Mitch's car and walked away. This is so bizarre considering my experience with the Shamanic journey and Rabbit medicine. The video - the possum appears supernatural, like an old woman or something. In another video, a cat approaches the rabbit but backs away.
Rabbit represents fear. And this rabbit was no more.
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