My throat had been hurting BAD for over two weeks. Bad enough for me to see my internist, who cultured me for strep but said it was probably allergies. To swallow was painful and my voice was beginning to reverbrate. My friend, who had seen success with reiki, scheduled me an appointment. I met with Liesel, who, with her tender touch, worked my chakra system channelling universal, healing energy through my meridian. My throat chakra was misaligned. No surprise. I was told that I needed to speak my anger. "But I can't- I don't have anger- only love, compassion, empathy..." Tears began to stream down my face. Fuck. I have anger. Unexpressed, of course. God damn it. I hate anger. I hate annoyance. I hate intolerance. I hate the weakness that comes with these shallow emotions. I hate having them. O.K. , I was willing, am willing to admit my imperfections and express my (cough) anger. Ohh, that means fessing up to my deep, old wounds from my childhood when my father left my sisters and I with only a child support check and holiday cards signed "love, Dad" to mark his paternal contribution. He had two more children, whom I can truthfully say that I have slept under the same roof with fewer than fourteen times. These children went on family vacations and had their father present at graduations and important occasions. Not that I am jelous of them. I am not. I am only dissapointed in my father for choosing to step aside and partake not in a difficult life as a father to three beautiful, strong women. As a step mother, I know first hand that divorce makes parenting far more challenging than it already can be. It is a challenge for those of us willing to get down and dirty to stand by our children, for their sake, even if it makes us uncomfortable, uneasy, unsettled, unhappy. Even if it makes us cry, we should be there for our kids. He has no excuse, he should have been there for us. He wasn't. I'm angry. But maybe a little bit less, now that I've written the words. I am healing. Using my voice. Speaking loud and clear. Even if the words aren't pretty.
By the way, my throat doesn't hurt any more. Not for eight days, since my session with Liesel.