“Ok Sara, what do you hope to get out of this?”
“Ummm…to be honest, I’m not even sure what you do.”
I was on the phone with an energy shifter, an acquaintance of mine who had offered a free session with her after watching a video I posted. And I was way outside my comfort zone.
I am wired to be a thinker. I come from a long line of thinkers. I love to solve problems, create new things, and set goals to achieve. I was labeled “gifted” at a young age and praised for my intelligence early and often. Thinking comes so easily to me and I love it so much, more often than not I prefer to be alone with my thoughts, puzzling out problems. It fits my introverted nature. I have been a classic Type-A, left brained person my entire life.
As such, I put stock in all things logical and scientific. I believe in western medicine. I trust my thoughts over my feelings because they are safer and easier to control. More predictable.
Most of the time.
Until they go haywire and turn goal setting into perfectionism, analysis into self-doubt, problem solving into problem creating. That’s what I managed to capture on video that day; she had reached out in response.
A year ago, when I first read her invitation, my immediate thought was, “Umm…what? Shift my energy? What does that even mean?” Followed closely by an involuntary eye roll. I didn’t intend to be disrespectful, but I had poo-poo’ed all things feeling, creative, and eastern medicine for so long it was my go-to response. Well that, and polite dismissal.
Recently, something reminded me of her offer. And this journey reminded me to be brave. So I reached out and she graciously honored her invitation.
“What do I do?” she asked. “Well, I’m an intuitive, someone who is sensitive to the energy in the world and the energies surrounding people. Most people come to a session with a specific question in mind, a decision they’re facing, and I read the energy around it. It helps bring them clarity. Sometimes I do healing work, clearing bad energy to make room for growth and movement,” she explained.
“So, I need to ask a specific question?” I replied. “Dang, I should have reached out a few months ago when I was trying to decide whether to quit my job. But I’ve already made that decision.”
As I spoke, I began to panic. I didn’t have a question, I was unprepared. My thoughts raced as my words stalled. I felt my old friend perfectionism begin to creep in, ready to berate me for being less than perfectly prepared.
“Take a deep breath,” she said. “What’s on your mind? It sounds like you’ve made a big decision recently. Are there any questions that linger as a result of that? We just need a place to get started, there’s no pressure.”
I found myself relaxing into the sound of her voice. “Well, I guess now that I’ve let go of the management portion of my job, I’m wondering about the sales portion, should I keep it? Focus elsewhere? The decision I made was right, but I’m left with the question of what’s next for me.”
So began a conversation that would last an hour and a half. We did answer my question, but not the way I expected. Not directly. Instead we talked of things that on the surface felt unrelated, things she sensed about my life, about me. We spoke of members of my family, of letting go, of standing at the precipice of the next phase of life and sinking into that moment instead of fearing it. We talked of making space for creativity, of sorting through which voice in my head is actually me and which voices need to go. We talked about the church and its effect on me over the course of my life, whether or not I would have been a good mother had I chosen to have children, and of finding the question behind the question.
As time passed, I realized we were tackling topics that stand as a barrier between me and the answer to my question. To any question I could have asked. They are all thoughts, voices, pressures, experiences that contribute to my inner dialogue, creating so much noise I cannot hear the answer that matters: the one my soul is whispering.
With each topic, each part of my story she sensed, we stripped away another unnecessary voice in my head. Unwarranted responsibilities and guilt I’ve carried for years lifted. One by one the voices in my head quieted. And in that process, as my thoughts silenced and my energy shifted, I met my soul.
It had something important to say.
“You are enough. You are already perfect,” it whispered.
“What?” I whispered back.
“You are already enough. Feel that truth.”
I nearly missed it. Wanted to dismiss it. My thoughts had never said such a thing to me, so surely that can’t be true.
But then my energy shifter said something that will stay with me forever, “Just because you have a thought doesn’t mean it’s your thought Sara, or even your voice. Not all thoughts are true.”
“Wait. What?” I asked.
I’ve lived in the world of logic and thought for 42 years because somewhere along the way I learned it was safer, more predictable, less painful. And the tangible nature of thought and logic convinced me of its truth.
“Not all thoughts are true,” she said again.
“Yes. Feel that truth. You are already enough,” my soul whispered.
In that moment, I felt it. Really felt it. Something clicked. I didn’t just know it in my head, I wasn’t trying to convince myself; I just felt the truth of it. It’s as if a veil lifted and I could see clearly for the first time.
I cannot be both. I’m either already enough or I’m not.
There is only one truth.