Recently I experienced and have been recovering from what is called a Dark Night of the Soul.
It was in the line of duty and was completely unavoidable. Sometimes, when our commitment to being ‘loving 24/7, 365’ we are going to become so depleted that mentally, physically, emotionally, and yes, spiritually, we are going to run on fumes and eventually hit a wall.
It’s part of the territory.
Because of my upbringing, I have had lots on my plate to contend with, and fortunately, I am fast to recognize it and take what steps I require to recover and regain my ability to function again.
So, what happened?
I was around a lot of lower vibration, dense energies from people who are chronic negative thinkers…and..well…’a little more’.
Last week I had two first calls, like bookends. Typically I take one first call a week at most. The first call wasn’t bad, I came home and slept all night. But the second…I finished after midnight, and then the freeway was closed on the way home. It was single file, bumper to bumper traffic on the detour. It took me two hours to drive home.
I took care of a colleague by request. This is stressful. Fortunately, the anxiety I’d seen in this patient the last time was better, completely gone, and filled with trust in my care. The experience was excellent and I was told ‘you have a beautiful soul’ because there was no pain and a positive recollection of everything I did. Being able to deliver care like that is hard. It’s hard for me to see someone I know under anesthesia, or get sick.
But then, the next day, was the funeral for the son of a colleague who took his own life. It was surreal. How? The speeches. Some avoided the obvious, only talking of the good. Others focused on the depression, the pain, and their interpretation of it. The cousin is the last straw. She read a poem about ‘science and physics’ how the energy is never lost, and also, a worse poem about suicide. There was a sister who had a beautiful voice and sang. And a cousin who sang too, a song she had written when her own father (brother of the father of the deceased) died by his own hand when she was young.
Spiritually, there was like, NOTHING. The youth leader was also the ‘best friend’ of the deceased, and offered to say the Lord’s Prayer. Then there were the coaches. One nicknamed the deceased, at a young age, ‘the Penguin’ after Dodger’s third baseman Ron Cey’s nickname. These travel
By: Reiki Dochttp://firstname.lastname@example.org
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Published Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2020 13:22:00 +0000