Telling Our “Medicine Story”

Aug 8, 2014 | Musings From A Prayerful Heart

Picture

The older I get and longer I live, I notice that from my soul’s perspective the essence of my life’s learnings and lessons can be narrowed down to a sacred handful of potent life teaching moments, experiences and passages.

In the Peruvian Q’ero Shamanic tradition I was trained in, I learned to associate this soul perspective as an aspect of wisdom medicine from Hummingbird, Siwarkente, the joy bringer. Hummingbird teaches us how to engage fully with life and drink deeply of the nectar of life, learning how to receive the “nectar” even from those life experiences which caused us the greatest suffering.

I often love to invite my clients and students to share their life story with me from the perspective of their soul. How would you tell your life story from the perspective of life being a profound, exquisite and often ruthlessly true response to the very lessons and learnings you actually took birth to receive?

It can be an especially beautiful, powerful (and sometimes provocative and triggering) exercise for those of us who have felt victimized in any way by our lives… and many of us who in fact truly were victims, in one way or another.

I’ve worked with countless people who were sexually and/or physically and verbally abused as children, by trusted elders, relatives, teachers, caretakers. I’ve worked with several people who were raped; both women and men. I’ve worked with many people who were forced to become intimate with the tragic influence of illness and death, alcoholism and drug addiction, sometimes from the time they were within the womb. I’ve worked with people who have survived the horrific loss of their own children, or the loss of their parents or siblings when they were children.

And so to find the “medicine story”, as I like to call it, (the medicine that came from our experience) we look at our life story from the perspective of imagining our unique life unfolding as the perfect response to exactly what we somehow needed to learn in this lifetime, in order to receive from life what we, as souls, came for. (*Even if you don’t know that you believe in a soul, you can pretend, for the sake of the exercise, and just see what comes!*)

To do this we need to look at our life experiences through a very special lens, (especially the really challenging experiences, moments or passages that worked us the most deeply, that traumatized us, broke our hearts, humbled or even hobbled us) and somehow stretch to glean the gems, the sacred gifts received, to see what they taught us, brought us, in a way that nothing else quite could have.

Such a shift happened in my own heart’s life, my own stance, stride, embodiment, and capacity for service, when I stopped telling my life story in a way of feeling somehow sorry for myself, and instead started embodying the wisdom of life’s many gifts to me, often in the form of “divine humbling.”

For example: the invaluable gifts I received as a child, very sick with meningitis at 18 months old, suffering countless invasive medical procedures, and the many years of neurological challenges that followed. What a ruthlessly immense gift of compassion I received in being meanly teased as a little girl for my leg braces, for neurological clumsiness, for the humiliating loss of control of my bladder and bowels.

How the deep experience of self-hatred in feeling “broken,” betrayed by life and my own body, gave me so much rich and potent material to work with; transforming deep wounds of pain, invasion and shame into sources of power, healing, self-love and empathy.

How the extreme disembodiment and suffering I was granted by dis-ease, was, in time, exactly what I needed to be called in to the body, into life, with great intention and dedication; the courage to study dance and yoga and embrace my body and life with passion and celebration. How the material I was given to work with allowed me to be of that much greater healing service to the people who come to sit with me today.

That’s just one of many personal examples of “Medicine Story” from my own life’s inclusion of pain. The rewards that come as we open to the gifts, the actual “nectar” that was unleashed by the wounds we suffered, allows us to feel grateful for this sacred moment, grateful for our own perseverance and courage, grateful for the chance we’ve been given to learn like this, to be humbled like this; brought to our knees by life again and again and again.

It is a wild life, this human realm, and even for the most privileged, the most supremely blessed of lives, suffering comes, of one kind or another.

Telling our medicine story lightens our load, and in so doing lightens the load of the world, brings true grace, meaning, beauty and blessing, medicine and healing to what previously knew only pain.

Love in all directions: past, present, future… Love to you, sweet reader, and all that you have met, all you continue to meet, in service of the lightening of the load in your own sweet heart, and so in the heart of our world…. xo ~*~ J

Facebook Comments

More Blog Posts

Opening Wider & Diving Deeper into the Immeasurable Beauty & Pain of Life

It’s not a spiritual requirement to be fascinated by what inhibits our greatest aliveness; and somehow compelled to uncover and reveal surprising pathways to deeper freedom.

And yet it did resonate for me when recently I heard brilliant author Brene Brown say: “Our capacity for whole-heartedness can never be greater than our willingness to be broken-hearted.”

Yes, thank you. When we discover firsthand the direct relationship between meeting […]

Oedipal Bliss

My sweet boy Ezra Star (6.5) jumped onto my lap today, throwing his little arms around my neck, and apparently milking the Oedipal Phase for all it’s worth, announced: “You know, Mama? We can’t really get married to each other. Even if we wanted. Because you are 41, and I am 6 1/2. And it’s just NOT appropriate.”

I burst into giggles and kissed him on both delicious cheeks: “No? That wouldn’t be appropriate?” He laughed too: “No! Even though […]

Lessons of Choice, Failure & Forgiveness

n these last weeks I’ve been pondering the tender intersection of choice, failure, and forgiveness.

Always poignant topics inside a human life vulnerably given to the forces of love and loss, what has driven these issues directly and painfully home to my personal heart of late is the rather angst-filled decision to let our sweet, amazing dog, Ekara Faith, return to the breeder from whom we received her in December.

And let me assure you, right from the start of this tender story, that while it is an intensely difficult choice, I completely trust this is the right choice, the wisest, most compassionate choice~ for this incredibly beautiful dog (who will now be devotedly trained to become a service dog for someone in need) as well as for my broken-hearted family, who truly wants the best life for Ekara, even more than we want to get to love her personally.

After many months mixed with incredible love and intense challenge, realizing we had made a commitment to loving an intensely intelligent dog who needs (and deserves!) […]

Good Enough Again

Last Sunday I had one of those days. It was like a Jesua version of Alexander’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

One thing after another went askew. I won’t even bore or depress you with the detailed account of everything that went wrong. It was like a comedy of errors, except at the time it really didn’t seem funny to me at all.

All day long I barely held it together; triggered by circumstance, humbled by hormones, and challenged by life’s sometimes mean and messy ways.

Finally, when I arrived home that evening, late of course, I walked in the door and Ekara, our 5 month old puppy immediately jumped up onto me and tore a hole in my longtime favorite, most beautiful hooded sweater.

The one I wear every day, through all the seasons~ to work, to be cozy […]

The Blood Test: A Mundane Story of Wound & Repair

Yesterday I had to take my beloved boy Ezra (6) to get some follow-up blood work at the doctor office to investigate more thoroughly some of the numbers that had returned from the tests we had gotten the week prior. Nothing dramatically troubling at this point, just some slight abnormalities worthy of investigation.

Well, needless to say, getting blood drawn from his arm is not my boy’s favorite way to spend a free morning with his Mama. But Ezra is a pretty fearless soul by nature, and so he was buoyant and open-minded until the actual moment came, sitting on my lap in the lab, with the rubber tourniquet tight around his upper arm, while we removed the bandaids that had numbing cream under them, in support of inviting as painless a procedure as possible.

We watched as the nurse kindly and gently prepared the needle and vials in front of us, and then suddenly I felt Ezra tightening and tensing his body against mine, everything in his body instantly transforming into “No!”

The nurse opened the needle and I held his arm steady. And then he suddenly strongly twisted his arm out of the range, making the vein inaccessible, and began resisting, loudly, saying: […]

Heart-Fed Babies Become Heart-Led People

I loved having babies. I loved the relative simplicity of that chapter of parenting. Such a physically raw time, yes, wow; literally growing their bodies from my own flesh and blood, my milk, my chi, my sleeplessness given, helplessly, to the devoted care of these young mammals.

But I loved how my job then was to just feed them my heart, carry […]

The Consequence of Truthtelling; Taking a Bold Stand for Love

This is such a loaded time of year, isn’t it? It can be a beautiful time, yes. Full of sparkly lights and brisk walks bundled in layers, sweetly, arm in arm. In this part of the Northern Hemisphere it is a time of turning inward, into the darker months, shorter days....

A Bone to Pick with God

A couple weekends ago I received the space to finally dive, ceremonially, into the angst and heartache I was carrying following the immensely stressful ordeal we recently went through with my beloved 9 year old daughter Arayla, in which I had been painfully forced to...

A Shark and A Boat

I've noticed the children haven't wanted to speak a lot with each other about Arayla's hospital journey. They've just wanted to recalibrate to one another, to play joyously as well as quarrel in familiar ways. Ezra( almost 6) and I definitely needed to process upon...