I took on my 1st paid client the other day.
I met him at an in-person training retreat. We barely spoke at the beginning of the week until there was an upcoming exercise, and he ran up to me like an excited little boy, little to his knowledge, I was in the middle of processing a big ball of shame.
He jumped up to me (literally!) and asked for this upcoming exercise, we work together. I was so taken aback that I could hear the words I wanted to say that were complete sentences, but in reality, I just made sparse sounds. This guy, let’s call him Tony, I don’t think event realised as he was in his happy place.
I was super nervous, in a scared state. He told me he couldn’t read me.
My body so stiff he couldn’t put a finger on it.
Then… he listened, as did I.
and I trusted - little by little.
I sat on his lap, where we hugged.
where I let the masculine hold me.
and I sobbed.
Then I cried some more, feeling guilty that he could have worked with someone else who wouldn’t have reacted this way.
It was perfect.
My turn to be of service.
I connected, I trusted, and I listened.
I heard a voice, go to his back.
I hovered over his lower back and moved the energy up.
He left me a review to say I cleared his back pain & it hasn’t come back since.
A few days after this session, just as breakfast ended, he shared, “You’re magic”. I want a session to look at X. I’ll pay you.
What I saw was a little boy finding his artistry.
Where he believed in the magic of peaking behind the veil,
On this journey, he created a remembrance of being his own artist.
He opened a door by doing what he shouldn’t. He said yes to himself, to accept both the ‘black’ and the white, within him.
The combination opened the door to the void, a place of everything and nothing.
The womb of creation.
He is the empty hand.
I am the empty hand.
We are the empty hand.