Sacred Snapshot…
Last summer was the last time I took care of my father in my home. Giving my brother a break, we brought dad to The Bronx.
We set him up in the guest room with all the motion detector alarms, the baby monitor so I could keep an eye on him at night and all the things he would need. Had on hand all of his favorite foods that were easy for him to eat (no forks or spoons anymore) and cleared my entire weekend so I could sit next to him all day, which is what he needed - 24 hour care.
I was in the process of filling out the forms to get him 24 hour care. I was talking weekly to Medicaid, social workers and elder care attorneys. It was getting harder for my brother to care for him without help and driving him two hours to the city was often more effort than it was worth.
We were doing everything right for dad. We had him with us as his mind was slowly erasing. And we were committed to keeping him with us. My brother carrying most of the weight of this.
He needs help in the toilet. As I try to help him he swats me away. He’s proud, even though he cannot do this himself.
“I’m trying to help you, dad.” I say.
“YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG,” he yells.
I feel the words in my gut. How many times did I hear that as a child?
How many times did I believe what is simply not true?
I just stand there in the bathroom and breathe.
I watch my father in his illness and see him as a child. An innocent child who heard the same words and grew up only to repeat them to his children.
In a flash I see my grandparents as parents.
I see my father as a parent.
I see myself.
I see the cycle.
And I see the cycle complete.
You have done nothing wrong.
There is subconscious patterning that says you have.
That you’ve made the wrong decisions.
That you have said something wrong.
Done something wrong.
This is human.
This is conditioning.
These are the scars of the psyche.
A thorn in your heart that life keeps poking.
As you go inward, you’ll uncover these wounds.
These scars.
These thorns.
They feel like tumultuous waves,
constantly smacking you around.
Tend to yourself with care.
Care for the wound of your thorns
like you would a child’s skinned knees.
The light of your awareness is the medicine that removes them.
And this process is often deeply unpleasant.
Allow the discomfort.
It’s okay to be uncomfortable.
It will not last forever.
Wounds heal.
Remember your breath.
The breath heals the wounds from the thorns in your heart.
It moves within you.
It enlivens you.
It sparks the intelligence of the body,
but it is not the body that holds the intelligence.
It is the spirit carried on the breath.
This spirit is the spark of God in this body.
Within you.
You.
Therefore,
you can access, quite directly,
the consciousness of God
through sustained, conscious awareness of your breath.
There have been many ways and techniques.
But the awareness of your breath
is the golden key.
The key hidden in plain sight.
Right at the tip of your nose.
