I have the honour of working regularly with some of my clients to support their individual journeys. Although these clients work through very different life stories, there often is a common thread, an unravelling process that occurs with consistent work. I found this happening in my personal life when I started using Reiki all the time myself. This generalisation is not pertinent for Reiki; it is common in all soul nurturing and healing work.
It is as if you find a tiny loose thread on a piece of clothing you're wearing. Initially, you might brush it off, but then you realise it is still attached to the cloth. You begin to pick the end up, but it's pretty tiny, so you have to concentrate on getting a grip. Your fingers and thumb seem too big to grasp it, so use tweezers or a toothpick to run under the end so you can grab it. And you do, eventually. That feels quite good, like you completed something. Silly, I know, but you know what I mean.
Then you pull it outwards, away from you - and weirdly, it gets longer. Then you hesitate; if you keep pulling, you can see a ladder in the fibre forming. Will it hole? If you leave it now, you will have this long thread hanging. So you pull it. And further out it comes, and the ladder forms. Darn! You might be cursing, but there's no turning back, and something makes you keep pulling - like really, you think...
The thread lifts totally. And there's the hole. You just knew it! Well, you knew it when you were fiddling, but before this, you didn't see a hole was there.
Then you pull it outwards, away from you - and weirdly, it gets longer. Then you hesitate; if you keep pulling, you can see a ladder in the fibre forming. Will it hole? If you leave it now, you will have this long thread hanging. So you pull it. And further out it comes, and the ladder forms. Darn! You might be cursing, but there's no turning back, and something makes you keep pulling - like really, you think...
The thread lifts totally. And there's the hole. You just knew it! Well, you knew it when you were fiddling, but before this, you didn't see a hole was there.
You get pretty distraught. You're triggered because this is your favourite jacket. It's an oldie, but a goodie. This hole is right where everyone can easily see it; it's ruined. Once you notice a hole, you can't unsee it. You are cross, irritated and upset, all at the same time. You lament the fact as you point out the hole to a few friends. They can't see it, or if they do, they are polite and say it doesn't matter. Or maybe they don't really care or think you're being dramatic. But it irks you.
You know you made this decision to pull the thread. You reason there wasn't much choice: you tried to poke it back through to the lining first, but it wasn't long enough. You didn't think about cutting it off or poking it back through at the time. It was irritating because it was there and wouldn't brush off.
You grieve your jacket. You think you could have worn it whenever it's cold, but you can't now. You wish you'd never poked at the thread that caused the hole. You'll have to buy a new one. But you liked that old jacket. It was a great design, served you well, and was comfortable. Why did you have to find the hole?
You get the needle and cotton. You darn it and stitch it. But the hole is scarred, and the threads make it even more noticeable. Throw the jacket, says a good friend. But I like it, tells you, so you leave it in the cupboard.
You forget about it eventually. The hole becomes a hole in the cupboard on a hanger, at the back of the rack, in the shadows of clothes with no holes. And summer comes, and you don't need the jacket anyway, so it stays there, and you get on with your summery life. You are hole-less. You are [w]hole again.
Until the rain and the sleet come one stormy Autumn day in the future. You scramble around the wardrobe because you're cold. You go to the back of the shadowy corners, past all the shiny new clothes. The holey jacket is the only jacket in the entire cupboard - at the very back, tucked away, musty and dusty. In desperation, you pull it out. You have no choice. It's freezing. There's nothing else to wear.
It smells stale; you get upset. You throw it on anyway. And, there's the hole. The darned up, patched up hole. You are just bereft. Can you never get away from this hole? It's haunting you.
As you sit on the bus, watching the rain fall down the window, you begin picking and fussing with the stitches that attempted to hide the hole. By the time you get to work, the hole is there again. Empty, gaping and worse than you remember.
Hey, says a workmate. You have a hole in your jacket, did you know?
Yep. I know, you nod. But this time, you're not irritated. You shrug it off.
You know you made this decision to pull the thread. You reason there wasn't much choice: you tried to poke it back through to the lining first, but it wasn't long enough. You didn't think about cutting it off or poking it back through at the time. It was irritating because it was there and wouldn't brush off.
You grieve your jacket. You think you could have worn it whenever it's cold, but you can't now. You wish you'd never poked at the thread that caused the hole. You'll have to buy a new one. But you liked that old jacket. It was a great design, served you well, and was comfortable. Why did you have to find the hole?
You get the needle and cotton. You darn it and stitch it. But the hole is scarred, and the threads make it even more noticeable. Throw the jacket, says a good friend. But I like it, tells you, so you leave it in the cupboard.
You forget about it eventually. The hole becomes a hole in the cupboard on a hanger, at the back of the rack, in the shadows of clothes with no holes. And summer comes, and you don't need the jacket anyway, so it stays there, and you get on with your summery life. You are hole-less. You are [w]hole again.
Until the rain and the sleet come one stormy Autumn day in the future. You scramble around the wardrobe because you're cold. You go to the back of the shadowy corners, past all the shiny new clothes. The holey jacket is the only jacket in the entire cupboard - at the very back, tucked away, musty and dusty. In desperation, you pull it out. You have no choice. It's freezing. There's nothing else to wear.
It smells stale; you get upset. You throw it on anyway. And, there's the hole. The darned up, patched up hole. You are just bereft. Can you never get away from this hole? It's haunting you.
As you sit on the bus, watching the rain fall down the window, you begin picking and fussing with the stitches that attempted to hide the hole. By the time you get to work, the hole is there again. Empty, gaping and worse than you remember.
Hey, says a workmate. You have a hole in your jacket, did you know?
Yep. I know, you nod. But this time, you're not irritated. You shrug it off.
You took the jacket to Sammies at lunch and visited a local boutique. You let the hole go and bought another one. You were ready to move on.
THE END OF THE HOLE
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So what is going on here?
So what is going on here?
You were in a space [your jacket] you were familiar with. You were so comfortable in that situation. You loved it. Or maybe you didn't, but you were convinced you did because it was an easier option than changing. [Buying a new jacket]
But when you started looking closely, you saw a minor flaw. You began to investigate what it was [tweezers], and you pulled out some issues [thread], and a problem became very apparent [hole].
It upset you. You resisted it. Became the victim for a while. Then you buried it back in the shadows. [Wardrobe]. You felt you dealt with it, and it was okay for quite some time. You put it away, resigned it. You forgot it was even there. But life called, and you had to return to the shadows to sort out this new situation. [Cold day].
There it was again. [The same hole] You had to relive the trauma of losing your favourite jacket all over again. Except for this time, it suddenly felt different. You visited your trauma for a little while. [Bus ride]. You recognised that the main issues were with your mind. [Your obsession over a tiny hole]. You understood how to take control. You fixed it this time. You let it go. [You gave the jacket away and bought a new one.]
When you went home, you put a light in the wardrobe so you could see more clearly what needed fixing before it became a hole. [You became present and aware of yourself].
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PostScript to the story:
The energy of soul-nourishing work of all kinds is a way back to the core of ourselves, of uncovering what is underneath our problems and issues. These things may not appear to impact us, but some can run deep, and over time, with patience and love, pulling their threads may help you dig below the surface.
PostScript to the story:
The energy of soul-nourishing work of all kinds is a way back to the core of ourselves, of uncovering what is underneath our problems and issues. These things may not appear to impact us, but some can run deep, and over time, with patience and love, pulling their threads may help you dig below the surface.
Now, that's not always comfortable. When you give yourself the time to explore what is in the depth of your being, it's shadowy work. It can sometimes be dark. We can deny or think things are fixed when they require more work. But as we stand at the edge of the proverbial rabbit holes of life, we can keep shining light there.
If we keep shining light on a dark space, if we are consistent, patient, and gentle with ourselves, a dark room will begin to reflect light, and yes, it may feel shadowy. But the more light we shine, the fewer shadows we experience, and the brighter the room. This is soul work to step out of the way of our shadows and shine.
If we keep shining light on a dark space, if we are consistent, patient, and gentle with ourselves, a dark room will begin to reflect light, and yes, it may feel shadowy. But the more light we shine, the fewer shadows we experience, and the brighter the room. This is soul work to step out of the way of our shadows and shine.