Instantly I saw how cruel I was to myself, holding myself to unrealistic standards of perfection. Just as quickly as I'd begun to "hear" these thoughts, I also found myself analyzing them. Why do I think this? Where did this thought come from? Do I really believe it? This thought analysis flowed effortlessly and I saw that unhealthy experiences from long ago were still affecting me through distorted, unrecognized thought patterns.
This voice in my head was just as critical of others. Worst of all I realized I'd planted the seeds of perfectionism in my beautiful daughters. Within hours of my NDE, I'd begun a mental list of amends I'd need to make with my children, husband and many others. Intolerance creates so much pain. I wanted all my relationships to be based on complete acceptance and honesty from now on.
I finally accepted that I can never BE perfect. I am human.... My NDE showed me that I am not my body; not the thoughts in my mind nor am I my mind. I am, and we are all, individual pieces of the One Spirit spending a very brief time in a physical world. This process of learning, and failing along the way, is the very nature of creation. It's the means by which we learn to love unconditionally.....learn to love each other just because we ARE.....and this love will, one day, create absolute unity, the Oneness I'd witnessed in my NDE.
With this knowing, it became easier to forgive. By the grace of God, I'd received a beautiful gift. It helped me realize that I can't hold those who hurt me accountable for their actions. They don't understand. They haven't seen what has been revealed to me.
With forgiveness, healing began to occur on every level, physical, mental and emotional. The message that countless priests had tried to impart during innumerable homilies finally settled in. As I released my greatest grudges, I felt like the Grinch on Christmas morning....my heart opened up and it grew with each burden I unloaded.
While forgiveness comes more easily now, forgetting???...not so much. There is a reason the human mind has the capacity to recall. Memory allows us to imagine what will happen next based on previous experiences. This keeps us safe and helps us achieve our goals. While I can forgive others, my memories create fear and I have created protective barriers I remain sheltered within. As my emotional wounds heal, I am beginning to discern when it is safe to step out of my shelter. When I feel strong, I look for opportunities to do good to those who have hurt me. On these occasions when I am brave enough to try, I might receive a sign that pats me on the back, urging me to continue the quest for soul growth.
On Thursday, September 19, 2013, I accepted a challenge from my higher Self to conquer another fear. I was rewarded with more synchronicity and serendipity. Through a distant relative, one of two brave souls in the family strong enough to bear the repercussions of maintaining a relationship with me, I learned that my father had been hospitalized in Washington, Missouri. After meditation this particular morning, I decided to take some photos of my daughters out to him. I called my boss and took the day off. I told no one where I was going, not even my husband, David.
I drove to Washington, mentally preparing for the challenge of walking into a room where I was not welcome. I parked the car in the hospital lot and prayed for strength. Slowly, I walked into the hospital, focusing on each step, trying to remain "in the moment" and balanced, trying to stem the tide of the fear welling up in the pit of my stomach. Breathe Nancy, breathe, I repeated to myself.
As I walked into the hospital I realized I didn't know the room number. I went to the front desk and asked the receptionist for this information. Another woman was standing there; she had been visiting with the desk attendant. I did not know the visiting woman. When she heard my father's name, she asked about my mother....was I her daughter? My heart pounded and my head began to spin, how should I answer this seemingly simple question? Many possible answers popped into my mind.... "At one time I was?" "Yes, but I am estranged?" I finally forced out a simple, "Yes." She introduced herself by name and explained she knew my mother. Also in the process of giving birth, she had shared the labor room with my mother in this very hospital when I was being born; in those days it was called St. Francis Hospital. Then I recalled my mother speaking of this woman. She'd given her daughter an unusual name that I clearly recalled. This was unbelievable! This stranger was with me the day I was born and our paths didn't cross again for another 49 years when, "by chance," we met in the same hospital, now called Mercy Hospital, where our paths had first crossed. The thought occurred to me that she was present during my physical birth and here she was again as I was birthing a stronger version of myself. We spoke briefly and it felt surreal. There were so many questions that came to mind but I needed to continue my journey, so I moved on. Alone in the elevator, I felt a sense of gratitude. I wasn't entirely sure what this "coincidence" meant, but there was no denying that the brief reunion deeply affected me.
The elevator stopped, I took a deep breath and walked down the hallway. When I arrived at my father's room, from the hallway I could see he was alone. I breathed a sigh of relief and walked into his room. Things were a bit awkward for us but we were generally happy to see one another. I gave him the photos and we discussed my daughters; it was almost pleasant. Then my mother arrived and my emotional balancing act came undone. My heart began to race, my head was spinning; I was shaking violently inside. It took all my strength to remain standing. As anticipated, though the emotional tension was palpable, we pretended September 3, 2011 never happened. She spoke pleasant words, said it was nice to see me. I lied and said the same to her. Small talk ensued and what could not possibly have been more than ten minutes seemed to last an eternity. My father's lunch arrived and I was invited to stay. Fear was bearing down on me and I knew I could not maintain my composure for much longer so I declined the invitation and excused myself, saying goodbye. I wanted to run down the hall, afraid I was going to vomit. Trying to maintain some semblance of respectability, I did a sort of speed-walk to the nearest restroom, ran to the first stall and fell apart. I wept violently yet silently, not wanting to attract attention. I have no idea how much time passed but it seemed an eternity until I could collect myself enough to move out of the restroom. Eventually I felt strong enough to walk and headed for the security of my beloved little red car waiting for me in the lot.
In the lobby, I assessed my physical state and realized I was in absolutely no condition to drive. I found a park bench outside and sat down. I let the sun shine on my face and breathed deeply. I used every technique I've ever learned to calm and center myself. I was not particularly proud that I'd lost my composure but I was happy I'd pushed beyond the limits of my comfort zone. It was tremendously difficult, but I did it. Could I have done better? Yes. Was it the best I could do at that time? Absolutely.
Finally calming down, I checked my messages and found something unexpected. An uncle had included me on an e-mail! It was distributed family-wide, updating everyone on my father's health status. Never before had this happened. To have contact with me is akin to aiding and abetting the enemy so this seemed to me a brave act on his part. I was grateful for this small acknowledgement that I might matter to him. This has never again happened, so perhaps I was an accidental inclusion in the distribution list that day. Still, I felt it was another nod of approval. I closed my eyes and felt a sense of gratitude welling up within me and just then my phone rang. It was David. He asked if I would like some company for the afternoon; the idea of leaving work to "hang out" had just come to him out of the blue. He had absolutely no idea where I was. There was nothing in the world I needed more than to be with him, in his comforting presence. I told him where I was, what I'd experienced and that his timing was pure synchronicity.
I drove home slowly, still wobbly from the day's events and David met me there. Over a couple of drinks, we talked for hours. We talked about the tremendous, invisible force called fear and the greater power of the intentional will that brings desired change. Where fears once unconsciously guided me, intention now drives me toward purposeful goals and it is the power of will and determination that bring strength and courage through grace when I need it most. The serendipity and synchronicity of the day were signs to me that my actions were good but also that they were divinely orchestrated. I'd accomplished a significant personal goal that day, but I wasn't alone in the process. Completely drained but at peace, I was grateful for the grace that had carried me and the signs I'd been blessed with all through the day. Once again, I found myself wondering........"Just how amazing IS this thing called life?!"
Please forgive typos and grammatical errors. This writing comes in a flow from the heart and I admit, I am not perfect!
