Hello, my dear.
Much, much love to you.
I want to tell you this story. During this year, I have been working on deepening my meditation practice. I sometimes talk to my inner healers, or sometimes do other practices, depending on how I feel. Part of my practice is to spend 30 minutes in silence, every day that I can manage it. I do not do any specific meditative practice during this time, but it is a sort of free-flowing meditation, and different people or things will come to me.
I was having a hard time during the winter, with stress, life, school, etc. I was just about at my breaking point – in danger of having a panic attack at any moment. I sat down to do my 30 minutes of silence, and in ‘free meditation’ I saw/felt this man coming toward me. He looked a lot like you would expect the Spirit of Love to look, but he felt so real to me. I could see that his hands were muscular, and calloused, and hairy. And very strong man-ish. I noticed his biceps, and the ragged edges of the cut-off sleeves of his tunic. His hair was long, and pulled back at the nape of his neck in a loop, but strands were wisping out, loose around his neck — he had stubble on his face, and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He was completely gorgeous, and he had this little mischievous grin on his face like…I don’t even know how to describe it. I’m sure it was God, but there was just so much detail about him, and manly, mischievous energy about him that you just don’t get in the typical idea of the Spirit – things that I associate with a real, physical, manly presence – like the hair on his arms.
He looked at me with that smile – and this look in his eyes of absolute love. But not a gentle, lovely, blanketing kind of love, but a strong, manly, heart-friend, ‘I know you and I fucking love you,’ sort of love. Like a lover. It took my breath away. He kept coming closer to me; he was about the same size as me, but his spirit was so big it felt like he could just encompass me in love. He looked at me, and he just sort of mentally communicated, or I knew by his look, that he said, “Hey, crazy, what are you doing to yourself? You are holding on too tight. Just let everything go.” And I knew that he wanted me to let every single thing – every cell of my body go. I looked at him, and I said, “I want to. But I don’t know how, and I’m scared.”
He smiled at me, and my eyes were drawn to his chest, where I could see over the top of his tunic that he had a scar. He pulled open the cloth, so I could see that the scar ran down his sternum, about 10 inches down his chest to the end of his costal margin – which I know is a scar from open heart surgery. I knew instinctively what I should do, so I went over and put my head against him so that my ear was pressed to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me to him.
And I could hear two heartbeats. He looked down at me, like he longed for me, and he said, “It’s ok. You can let it go, because I have your heart.”
Trust me, my darling. I could tell him – my lover, my heart-friend – all the terrible things I’ve done. But I don’t think he gives a shit.
I love you. Just remember who holds your heart. Nothing else really matters.