What? You don’t think there’s any problem with an open heart? You believe that’s the way we should all live?
Oh, I agree. It’s a beautiful way to live.
The problem with an open heart is that it’s easily broken. Or at least hurt. And not everyone lives with an open heart, themselves. Therefore, not everyone respects it. Consciously or unconsciously.
Truth is, most people live their lives unconsciously. There are underlying motives, catalysts, reasons for their beliefs and actions that they remain blissfully unaware of. Digging into all that stuff can be painful. It’s not for the faint of heart.
Most of us don’t want to go there.
Don’t go there!
One of my exes was a Jungian guy and early in our relationship he kept digging and probing. “Don’t do that,” I warned him. “Because if I start to cry, I’m afraid I won’t ever stop.”
I was right about that. Because to survive I had to develop some pretty thick armor. I didn’t know I had it until quite late in life, when I removed it to do something I was warned against doing by my parents on the other side and my spirit guides. Three times I was warned. But after many years, I decided that I would approach the situation with an open heart. I didn’t realize I would have to shed the armor I didn’t know I had, and that being vulnerable would be both unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
I’ve opened my heart fully a few times. Sometimes it was treated with the care it deserved, even if the end game wasn’t what I thought I wanted. I survived. So how bad could this be?
When I first considered it, I was in session with a medium I know and trust. It was more than a few years ago and my parents were present from the other side. So I asked for their opinion. The medium was clear: “Your entire family, including your parents and the other seven family members here are shaking their heads, ‘no, don’t do it’. All of them.”
Not what I expected
That shocked me. “Ask them why,” I said.
“They say they know you’re going to do what you’re going to do, so if you must, go ahead.”
“But I want to know why they think it’s a bad idea!” I insisted.
“They say that you’ll be hurt and they don’t want you to be hurt.”
Ohhhhh. Well. First of all, any fake medium worth their image would’ve said “Oh, yes, they say you should.” Because it was that kind of thing. But this medium didn’t. So I took it to heart and did nothing.
A few years later I was pulled to consider it again.
So I contacted the woman who is now my go-to medium and explained to her assistant that I wanted to talk to my parents about something asked if the medium would broker that session, even though it wasn’t what she usually did. The answer came back “Yes, but only because it’s. you, you understand how this works and you know that you might not get what you are looking for.” I did understand. It was worth the risk.
As the medium’s familiar face filled my computer screen, she said: “Your spirit guides are here. They don’t think your parents are the right people for you to discuss this with, so they want to talk to you about it.” That was a surprise, for sure. Here’s what they told me:
“This is a really bad idea and we don’t think you should do it. Bottom line: It’s not your circus and those are not your monkeys. You will not be heard. And it is not your situation or your responsibility. It’s theirs. You have nothing to apologize for. So here’s what we’ll do: We’ll hold your message and deliver it for you, should they ever return from vacation from spiritual matters. We do not expect that to be in this life, but of course, growth is possible and it might be. Just don’t expect it.”
There was more, but that’s the gist. Not what I expected or hoped for.
I stewed about it for a few months and thought, that can’t be right. So I booked a session with a medium I’d never used before. The very first thing he said was, “Hey, you’re thinking about doing something. It’s a bad idea. Don’t do it.”
I burst out laughing–how many times did I have to hear it before I’d believe it?? (This is very me.)
Fast forward a bunch more years. The subject of doing it again came up yet again and I was encouraged by earthly beings in my life.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m pretty sure the outcome won’t be positive. I think the motives on the other side do not support a positive outcome.”
“You don’t know that,” I was told. “Give it a chance.”
“I’m always right about this stuff,” I said.
“Not always,” was the response.
Well, actually, yeah, always on this.
Surely enough time had passed. Surely if I approached it with an open heart I could make progress. That’s what they thought, anyway. I had reservations. But, my heart was open.
The stove might not be hot this time.
So, I did it. I touched the hot stove. Even though I’d been burned by it before.
I didn’t realize that opening my heart meant shedding my protective armor, the burn-proof shields that had been the only way I survived.
Almost immediately afterward, my level of discomfort was high. Although some positive words were spoken, I worried that they were not sincere. And I had made myself vulnerable.
I don’t regret opening my heart, but I definitely had quite an experience with dropping my armor. Turns out, I couldn’t get it back on. It no longer fit.
Life for me has changed. I am more sensitive to how others are. I am learning to assess whether something or someone is actually a positive in my life. Equations that were out of balance now bothered me more. I made some decisions. They weren’t as hard as I thought they’d be.
I’ve noticed that things touch me more. I am moved by things my armor had protected me from. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.
But overall? I’m good. Life is good. My intent was good. I was open. The armor fell away for good. It was a difficult adjustment.
All is well.
It just took a little while for me to get there. Not that long.
You’ll get there, too. I know it.
Gently supportive tools for grief and healing can be found HERE. They make lovely gifts.