I need to get to work.
I have my very first practitioner training workshop which I’m delivering solo coming up this weekend, and I’ve got lots left to do, but this morning I’m feeling so overwhelmed with sadness that I can’t concentrate or focus on anything.
And I know from experience, strong emotions need to be let out, and writing them down is the best way to release them. But I can’t just journal out my feelings and put them away; there’s some part of me that needs to believe that there’s a sliver of a chance that the people I’m writing about might see this and want to make things better, so I’m doing this publicly. And, if they choose, they can pretend they never saw this, and things can just go on the way they always have, but I’ll know I’ve done as much as I’m comfortable doing.
Why here? Why not. While I try to keep my posts strictly professional, I figure it’s my blog and and if you find this particular post to be a self-indulgent pity party, then please skip to another post. I promise, they’re not all like this.
A little background: I’ve been involved in energy work for the past few years, but it’s been my sole focus for one year now. Before that I was a dietitian, a scientist, and a hard-core atheist I was respected by my peers for being very intelligent and logical, and their opinion meant a lot to me. I thought energy work was utter nonsense and wouldn’t have given it the time of day. Most of my friends thought the same.
But then things changed. I learned. I experienced. I was shown incredible things in the world of energy that my scientist-mind wanted to understand. I wanted to explain the unexplainable. I studied. I researched. I did case study after case study after case study. I’ve spent literally thousands of hours discovering the rules of the energy world, because there are indeed rules. Blood, sweat, and tears have gone into putting together something, the likes of which I don’t think has ever been seen. Granted, from my limited experience, maybe there is something just as amazing out there, but for someone who, only a few short years ago didn’t believe in souls, or a universal energy, or anything out there that was bigger than ourselves, I feel like this is knowledge that could revolutionize the world.
The list of amazing things I’ve seen could go on for pages, but here are just a few:
In April my business partnership fell apart, so now I had nobody I could really count on, and I felt really, really, alone.
But I’m stubborn (I’m a Taurus for anyone who follows astrology), so I dug in my heels and kept going.
And I learned even more. And I grew. And the modality got better and better, so now I’m changing the name to the Accelerated Release Technique (ART) and this weekend I’m teaching it to four eager young people who see in it the same potential that I do.
And somewhere in the last few weeks my husband, begrudgingly, allowed me to show him ART and he couldn’t deny that it had an impact. That after a couple of hours with me, things that had been troubling him for weeks weren’t bothering him anymore. Somehow I had managed to actually convince him that I wasn’t a walking placebo, that you didn’t have to believe in what I did for it to work. That it does actively trigger changes. And I spent a couple weeks in complete disbelief, wary when he’d ask me about my day or about clients I’d seen.
And yesterday he was perfect. He knew how much pressure I’m under this week so when I disappeared, caught up in some work after starting to get dinner ready, he didn’t call me to remind me, and instead he just took over. He took care of getting the kids out for Halloween and shelling out candy at the door. He offered to help me any way he could. He gave me support when I was convinced I had none.
So why does this make me sad? Because now that I’ve had a taste, I want more. I have a few friends who believe in what I do, but I see none of them regularly. The ones I do see regularly are the ones who think I’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. The ones who used to respect me for my intelligence and analytical mind, now think I’ve walked off the deep end. But we’re still friends. We still hang out and play games together, talk about politics and world events. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to go around the group, hearing how everyone is doing, each of us asking about the other’s work, and NOBODY asks me about my life or work? Am I that embarrassing to them? Or are they afraid they’ll hurt my feelings because they don’t believe what I believe? Or worse, do they think that if they ask me questions that I’ll be ill-equipped to answer them? That because I now have a completely different world view than they do, that my IQ had to have dropped by 100 points?
I may not be a dietitian or an atheist anymore, but I’m still a scientist. I didn’t change my views without a landslide of proof. I’d much rather be challenged on my views, given the opportunity to share my new understanding with the people I care most about, and prove that I’m still the same person I’ve always been. I’m a big girl. I can take it. It’s way better than sitting in silence and feeling judged, without any idea of what you’re actually thinking about me.
There. I’ve said it. And now that I can read this whole post without any fresh tears, it means that it is out of my system and I can get back to changing the world.
Will anything change? I don’t know, but I think so. The interesting thing about this work is that by getting feelings out, we release the triggers that have created them. My friends might never see this and never ask me about my work, but deep down, I know that that was my problem, not theirs. Nobody is responsible for my own feelings but me. I know I’m supported – I do have friends, family, a new soon-to-be practitioner network, and you, who have read this to the end – so if those other friends are not ready to embrace what I do, then it is truly their loss.
Signing off with a lighter heart,
Renu
Winner of "Best Alternative Medicine/Healing" in 2020
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