A Teaching Tale of TRUST...

“Letting go of Fear”

Angie died.   

My cousin, Angie, was the saving grace of my childhood.

For the first three-and-a-half years of my life, her family and mine shared a two-flat building on the South Side of Chicago.  She was a teenager, then, and I was her toddler sidekick -- entertaining all her friends with my silly songs, dances and mimickings of the popular TV performers of the day, like the rubber-faced Lucille Ball (“Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!”) and gravelly-voiced Jimmy Durante (“Hot-cha-cha-cha-chaaaaa!!!”).

When Angie graduated from college and became an elementary schoolteacher, she  championed my youthful longings to become an actress by paying for ballet, piano and drama classes at Roosevelt University’s Children’s Program.  She never missed a recital and never failed to tell me how “dazzlingly, wonderfully brilliant” I was after each performance. Angie believed in me...and I was determined that when I grew up, I would validate her convictions.

But in the time it took to put an exclamation point at the end of: “God help me, I just can’t take it any more!” -- she was gone. Kaput. Finito. She had asked, and her request was answered. At 43, in the middle of an argument with her husband, Angie died from a brain aneurysm.

  It was four forty-five in the morning when I got the call. I was now an adult; graduated from college; married and living in New York, and stuck in a quandary about whether to continue in my “foolish” pursuit of an elusive acting career, or going back to my “real” job in public relations.

I remember slipping my arm out of one of the sleeves of my bathrobe to cover my face and muffle my sobs after I got the news. It was a trick I’d learned early in life whenever I’d hear my parents arguing in the middle of the night.

            Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, my son, Christopher, shuffled into the living room in his powder-blue, jumpsuit pajamas with the yellow satin bunny rabbit going down the right side and white plastic feet that were all crackled from too many washings.  Chris stopped in front of me and stood very still...waiting.  He had just turned four years old.

I quickly pulled myself together as he asked:  “What’s the matter mommy?”

My sadness was now compounded by dread.  How does one explain death to a four year old in a way that is at all comprehensible?  I proceeded cautiously.

            “Remember Cousin Angie?”  He nodded. 

“Remember when she came to visit us with her kids last summer and we all had such a good time?”  He nodded again. 

“Well, she...she’s…” I groped for the right words. None came.

“She’s gone,” I said helplessly.

            “She’s gone?” 

I nodded.

“Where did she go?” 

By now my heart was beating out of my chest. I wasn’t ready
for this.

            “She’s...up in Heaven. See, Heaven is a place you go to when you...die.  Everybody goes there eventually, so it’s not a bad thing, it’s just that...I know I won’t get to see Angie again until I get there, and...that probably won’t be for a very, very  long time and…and…I’m really, really going to miss her.”  I prayed that my feeble explanation would satisfy him.  I held my breath.

            Christopher stared back at me with those big dark eyes of his that, because of the way they were being illumined by the light of the sunrise, looked to me like two piercing chunks of glinting coal.

Slowly, he walked over to me and softly placed his left hand on top of my right one...which, unconsciously, I had been clenching into a tight fist.

            “Don’t cry, mommy.” he said calmly.  “You have to die so that you can live, because if you didn’t die, you wouldn’t live.”   

            And then, like a little Buddha, he turned and walked (not shuffling this time) back to his room and went back to bed. 

~

LESSON 

            I’ve often heard it said that we come here knowing, and that the longer we live, the more we forget. Christopher was obviously aware of something I’d forgotten. His little hand was electric when it touched mine and goose-bumps immediately spread all over my body.  In fact, they still do every time I tell this story. 

It was as if Chris had tapped into some powerful and all-knowing life-force – a “Wisdom of the Ages” whose profoundness was exceeded only by its simplicity.

Could this have been GOD talking to me through him?!

Well, it had that effect.

All her life, Angie had put the needs of others ahead of her own. Over time, self-sacrifice took its toll and she began to experience depression in a way that seemed to have no solution.  In the “be careful what you ask for” request of her final words, she found one.

All my life, I’d been told that I was "just like Angie." And my misplaced “shoulds” of self-sacrifice had begun to take their toll on me, as well.

Angie’s death and Christopher’s words jolted me into making a change.

What had to die my life so that I could live?  

What were the vexatious people, situations, thoughts and negative imprinting I needed to let go of before the stress of being burdened with them possibly killed me?!

            Getting into therapy was the first change I made.  Learning how to say “No” was the second. Deciding to seriously commit to the pursuit of my dream (which I experienced as a “calling”) of being able to make a living as an actress was the third.  There were lots of others, but these were the “headliners.”  My approach to making these changes was to follow the “How Do You Eat An Elephant?”  method – by taking one small bite at a time...

            Four years later, I was starring as “DiDi Bannister” on the ABC soap opera, Edge of Night.  So much for "foolishness." Angie would have been proud.

~

            Spiritually, the message Chris delivered to me was that death is nothing to fear.  It’s part of a process...and the process is continuous.

            Pragmatically, he was saying that whatever is in your life that you “just can’t take” any more has to die or it will kill you. Maybe not in the literal sense, but it will kill your dreams...it will kill your spirit, so that when your time eventually does come, you will experience death without ever having truly lived!

~

            Life should be lived as a celebration for the gift that it is.  So, trust in your dreams.  Trust in the sweet aspirational whispers of your “callings.” Trust that when you’re willing to let go of something, something else of even greater stature, grander proportions and higher fulfillment will move in to replace it. Die to the darkness and embrace your light.  Remember how “dazzlingly, wonderfully brilliant” you are.

            And listen to your children. They come to us bearing wisdom we may have long forgotten. And remind them how “dazzlingly, wonderfully brilliant” they are, too.

ACTIVITIES 

Why is it that so often it takes a dramatic event – like the death of a loved one or the loss of a job – for us to consider making a change in our lives? Especially when it’s one that we know needed to be made all along.

The answer is fear...fear of the unknown.  There’s comfort in the familiar... even if it’s discontent. 

But we don’t have to wait until we’re acted upon.  We don’t have to be the victims of fate and circumstance.  Change is always available and accessible to us.  But,first, we have to choose it.

Contrary to the saying that “the only thing to fear is fear itself,” fear is nothing to be afraid of, either!  Fear is simply a habit.  And habits can be changed. Habits can be overcome. Habits can be conquered.  But first we have to become aware of our unproductive and counter-productive habits. Then we can begin the task of deconstructing the negative “hold” they have on us and eliminating them.

~

The wonderful gift that comes with crisis is that it brings with it an interruption to our normal, “habitual” behavior patterns. Crisis opens up a space for us to insert and energize beneficial NEW BEHAVIOR.

Crisis provides us with an opportunity to do a re-write on our life story and create a more vibrant, dynamic, positive outcome.

 
GIVE WHAT YOU WANT TO RECEIVE... 

If you want to attract more loving, positive and supportive people into your life, start by becoming one.  Look for reasons to give praise and encouragement to others. “Good job!”  “Love your hair!”  “Way to go!” can go a long way in esteem and confidence-building. Spread it around!!! 

And then watch how it comes back to you.

BY-PASS SUBCONSCIOUS RESISTANCE... 

While positive affirmation is an acknowledged and accepted means for manifesting our “wants,” the power lurking in the subconscious fears of our “don’t wants” can hijack our goals and impede their manifestation.  We can dissolve this power by consciously “laying it to rest.”  

Jumpstart big changes with the following two small, but powerful steps, and prime your subconscious mind with the expectation that new and exciting things are about to take place.
 
FOR THE NEXT 21 DAYS, BEFORE YOU GO TO BED... 

Stand up straight, and – reaching up to the ceiling and breathing deeply­ – give your body a 30-second stretch. Once in bed, lie comfortably on your back; close your eyes, and take three more slow, deep breaths...saying silently to yourself, “all is well,” on each exhalation.  When you’re finished, say the requiem, below, out loud. Read it from a card if you don’t have it memorized, and when you’re finished, lie on your back, again, and take three more slow, deep breaths...saying silently to yourself, “all is good,” on each exhalation.  Then say the affirmation and repeat the three breaths, saying, “all is done,” on each in-halation. 

REQUIEM 

I now actively withdraw my energy from any person, place, circumstance or thing that is not in my best interest or for my highest good.  I release it with love and gratitude for the purpose it once served in my life...but which it serves no more!

AFFIRMATION: 

I now reclaim my power...and actively reinvest in that which is in my best interest and for my highest good.  I renew my delight in this great gift of life; reinvigorate my relationships with others, and rejoice in the increased appreciation – by myself and those around me – of my own self-worth.

~

Keep a 21-day journal of the changes you see occur  – and more importantly, what you feel – happening in your life. Look forward to being surprised!  At the end  of these three weeks, you'll be ready – and eager – to move on to the next chapter.

*   *   *

“Anyone who does not believe in miracles is not a realist”

                                                                     -Anwar Sadat