I recently attended a Celebration of Life for a friend of mine who passed earlier this year. It was a beautiful gathering in her memory; a very special occasion with a group of the amazing people she surrounded herself with – her family of choice, as her father put it.
Afterward, I spent some time with him, where we visited the little Mexican place down the street from her apartment that I had heard so much about. And then to the rooftop at her old apartment building. I felt drawn to a certain part of it, and walked over there at one point. He wanted to show me another view of a certain building, so walked to another part of the rooftop to get that vantage point. From there, I kept feeling pulled back to the place from earlier. I told him I felt like I kept feeling drawn to that area and so we walked back there. I stood for a minute, gazing at the city skyline. Then turned my head behind me and saw a lit up “Exit” sign.
I then turned my head back to the skyline and I saw it in a different light. It seemed like I was feeling what she felt the last time she was on the rooftop. I turned my head once more and looked at the skyline near the stairs going back down to the building.
Lee pointed below us and said, “This here was where she lived.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Judging from the distance and the view she had from her window. I think we’re right above where she actually left.”
“Oh, wow.” I told him what I had just experienced.
“Maybe.”
[Note: this conversation happened in the midst of a pretty heavy emotional moment, and in telling the story, I’m interpreting the energy based on a fuzzy memory, so my recollection of specific language may not be entirely accurate.]
Sharing this, I wondered, “Why?” (As in, why did I process that through my own emotional body?) And the answer of course is, “Because it was teaching you.”
The lessons are:
- Setting intentional boundaries
- Intentionally engaging with external energies through those identified personal boundaries
- Trusting my inner vision & voice
- Recognizing the void
Ahh. Yes, the void. My old foe.
I saw a quote earlier today about the void being a window through which to gain a different perspective. Boy, does it ever.
I’ve been releasing a lot of stagnant energy. If you’ve been following, perhaps you read a little bit about this experience in my post entitled, “Stubborn Energy.” Perhaps you also read an even earlier post where I talked about being afraid of “nothingness” when I was a child. How my mother interpreted that as me being afraid of the dark, but how I wasn’t afraid of the dark at all. I was afraid of the void. I wasn’t afraid of death; I was afraid of being nothing after death. I’ve interpreted that in the past as having been spurred by a dark entity that had attached to my father and was attracted to my light. I’m not sure if that’s true or if that’s just my interpretation, or if they’re one and the same.
Either way, there was a moment I remember when I was at my dad’s, and I was young – less than 8, no less than 5. But I was trying to go to sleep and I couldn’t, because this feeling of nothingness just came over me. It plagued me for awhile consistently; then here and there. It’s been a long time, at this point.
I believe subconsciously, I was holding energy to avoid the void. Avoiding the void, I like how that rolls. You can’t do it, though. You either choose it or it chooses for you. Meaning: if you don’t intentionally choose which energy/ies to purge, the world will choose for you. Change is the only constant. You either create your world, or you live in the world other people are creating.
Back to reflecting on the moment on the rooftop: I found the energy had filled the voids of the energies I had chosen to purge. I realized I was afraid to purge because I knew the energies that were there; and I didn’t know what could replace it.
I decided during my trip I would just let go and see what happened. So I did. It felt okay. Lighter. Which was nice. Then, I asked how to protect that space from wayward energies. I saw an animal totem come forward. It felt right, so I let it in. I asked if there was any space left to fill and a second animal came. Again: it felt, so I let it in.
I had the distinct feeling I was holding one of them for someone else. I forgot about that until just now, when I started wondering if one of them was for Meagan. For that specific moment when I felt her last view of Atlanta. Perhaps they both were, because as I’m attempting to, I cannot recall what animals they were. I’ll have to ask.
Oh, one was a chipmunk. (The second one.)
What was the first?
Hmm… it’s escaping me. A bat? (Haha. That’s a joke. Maybe no one else thinks it’s funny, though, because maybe I’m the only one who thinks of a bat when they wonder what type of animal is an escape artist, if other people even wonder about that sort of thing. I do. Clearly.)
So, the first. I think I remembered. I’m just not sure I want to say.
But the chipmunk — maybe that was for Meagan.
Okay, I know why the owl was hiding. (They eat chipmunks.)
((And I wouldn’t actually say it was “hiding” persay, even though I used that word. It was working; though I didn’t know that until later, when I felt myself release a deep-seated trauma called, “I didn’t do anything wrong.” And that led me here.))