Where Do I Start?

A Difficult Chapter in My Life.

When people ask me about my story, I never really know where to start. Do I begin at birth? Do I start at my dark night of the soul? My awakening? Do I use the lens of the Hero’s Journey? There are so many determining factors of how I tell my story - what to include, and what to omit. Who am I speaking to? What’s relevant, and perhaps even helpful to us both?

Today I heard a song that reminded me of a traumatic time in my life, nearly twenty years ago. This time shaped me in so many ways. It was one of the most profound encounters with death I had ever experienced.

Today was the anniversary of my friend Emilee’s murder.
I was a newly twenty one year old, halfway through a year long massage therapy program. I was set on track to begin my healing career, so naturally life began to organize itself to support me in that.

On my birthday that year, I left a highly abusive relationship. It was that kind of toxic relationship where you are irresistibly drawn to each other, and also trigger every dysfunctional relational pattern. It was close to a four year, on-again, off-again, “romance” that we just couldn’t quit. No matter the cheating, the dishonesty, the disrespect or the physical violence, I would find myself forgiving and going back every time. Let me say, I was not innocent. I was manipulative, deceitful, narcissistic and spiteful. We were a perfect dysfunctional match. We did love one another in the way trauma bonded people can love one another, it wasn’t all bad or ugly. At the end of the day though, our unconscious wounding couldn’t resist shadow boxing with each other.

On my twenty-first birthday, I had finally had enough. Birthdays are important, they are the one special day a year that should make you feel loved and special. We were celebrating my birthday out of town, and just before dinner we had a fight. I decided I would finish this one by leaving - for good. As I left him at the Peachtree Plaza in Atlanta, I called my girl Emilee. Emilee was my best friend. She was that ride or die chick. We had an intimate friendship that was second to none. My boyfriend and her baby daddy were best friends so we were together a lot, at least a couple times every week for a few years. So I call up Emilee on my drive back to Montgomery. I’m angry and distraught, but for maybe the first time ever, I really felt heard and seen in my anguish. She held the most beautiful space for me, and by the end of our conversation she had restored my self-esteem to the point where something shifted. I knew this was it for good, and there was no going back.

A month passed and Emilee and I didn’t speak or see one another as much. With her baby daddy and my ex-being not just best friends, but professional work partners, we didn’t have many opportunities to be together anymore. Her son Trey was just under a year old so she did not leave the house often. Naturally, while there was more distance than there had ever been between us, our love and appreciation for one another was not affected by time.

On June 30th, 2007, I left work on lunch break to go to my Supra and check my phone. I had a missed call from Emilee’s mom, who I adored. I returned her call, unexpecting to hear the news. Emilee had been murdered in a car jacking late the night before. She was shot in the head and her baby daddy and sister in law were shot as well - but survived. I was in total shock and disbelief. Even now it’s a bit of haze recalling exactly what occurred immediately after that. What I can tell you is that this was my first blow with traumatic death. It took my breath away. I was gutted and even more distraught because I felt like who would understand? Who can hold this with me? The people that were closest to her, her baby daddy, his sister and my ex, were not my people anymore. I cycled through numbness, then anger, despair and devastation. Then I broke down… and I called my ex.

I asked him to come to my parents house where I was living at the time. My parents were out of town for the weekend so I was there alone. I’d love to tell you that something beautiful emerged as we fell into each other and grieved, but unfortunately that’s not what happened. Shortly after crying in one another’s arms, I became rageful. I don’t remember the exact words I said but I know I began to tell him that Emilee saved me from him by telling me to leave him on my birthday. I was totally emotional and out of control and it didn’t take long for him to lose it too. In the fight for control he grabbed me by the throat and began to strangle me. I suddenly realized that my life was actually being threatened, not just feeling afraid by “minor physical abuse” like in the past. I pushed him off of me. In his rage, he destroyed everything in site in my parents backyard. He left quickly, while I called the police.

I sat on that back patio, feeling so ashamed, so sorry for myself, for my parents, for my ex, for Emilee. Then, things got worse…

My parents had a koi fish pond with fourteen beautiful koi. There was one that was large, with a noticeable personality that interacted with my mother and I. As I began cleaning up the mess, I noticed something seemed wrong with the fish. I was so out of my body and dysregulated that I couldn’t understand what was wrong. It was summer in Alabama so it was very hot. It finally started to register that they were gasping for air and that they couldn’t breath. During the destruction, the power to the pump that aerated the water must have been disconnected. In my confusion and disability I called my parents, crying for them to come home and help the fish. An hour later they arrived and rescued as many as they could. The large one, Molly, did not survive. I felt shutdown; locked outside myself by shame, disgust and horror.

For several days I did not speak. I could not turn my head. X-rays revealed that I had a reverse curvature in my neck, and still do till this day. Fortunately I have healed the pain and distortions linked with this severe trauma.

This story telling began as a way to reveal the darker parts of my human journey. It was a way of me honoring my dear friend who legitimately saved my life. If it wasn’t for Emilee’s care at a pivotal time when I felt no one cared, I likely would have been in that car with them that night.

Our darkness reveals our light. There are many ways these experiences fueled my passion for spirituality and healing. In fact, I’d like to leave you with a story to balance the dark by telling you of one of the gifts this time brought.

While I was passing through this epic drama, in the following weeks I found myself rageful. The murder was unsolved and I had made it my business to search for clues. It was just a way I could feel in control of the incredible pain I was holding. A short time after, I woke up one day with a severe pain in my side. It had the hallmarks of appendicitis. I went to the hospital and did all the tests. What I learned was that I had gallstones. The doctor educated me on how to clean up my diet, gave me some Lortabs and scheduled me for surgery to have my gallbladder removed.

The next day I went back to school. We were studying Reiki during that part of the course and I was adamant to learn more Eastern healing techniques. My teacher was a Reiki Practitioner and took us through a demo session. While I have always had stars in my eyes and have been a big dreamer, I also stay grounded in critical thinking and realism. Therefore I was quite skeptical of energy based healing, in fact, at that time in my life I was cynical too. Then, I got on the table… and that all changed.

I laid on the table, feeling quite vulnerable. My teacher went through the hand placements and something started to shift as I became deeply relaxed. My mind thought, “the Lortabs must be having a latent effect.” Then, she invited the other students to lay hands on me. We were a small, closely connected class that all loved each other. What I experienced at that moment was the catalyst for my work in energy medicine. I could feel loving prayers radiating from my school mates hands. The care I was receiving overwhelmed me. I began to hysterically cry. Waves of heat and cold moved through my body. For hours after that I wept and slept. I knew something amazing had taken place and my interest was peaked! I knew I had just encountered something I had been searching for!

That next week I returned to the doctor for pre-op. They did the standard ultrasound to rescan. What occurred then was my first Reiki miracle. The stones had vanished! The doctor was in disbelief, so much so he thought they made an error with the initial ultrasound. I knew exactly what had happened, and how. Reiki had helped me release the stored rage and disgust I accumulated from my friends murder and my assault. From that point forward, I began to change the direction of my life drastically. I quit smoking cigarettes, I began working out and doing yoga, I started attending church groups, and leaned into Chinese astrology. Years down the line I would find myself teaching hundreds of students, the art of healing with Reiki.

I can track many more miracles and gifts that were connected with this time in my life, but I’ll save them for another time. I more so want to illustrate that we do not get to great places by avoiding pain. The power of presence and our capacity to endure hardships can transform our pain into purpose. I didn’t get to where I am by not making “mistakes,” and I wasn’t always conscious or righteous. My human history has been dark, but not bad. I have lived and fed my darkness, but I found the light much more fulfilling.

My last post, spoke about how many of us are becoming the organic new human. As the old human is dying, we may want to tell our stories, just as our elders do before they pass on. While my sisterhood with Emilee lives on, the person who lived that story is transitioning. This felt like a natural act of honoring Sunny, and the outrageous life she has lived.

I don’t know about you, but there are times I look back on earlier years and for a moment try to tap back into that time. Through clothes, music, habits, and people, I would try to reinitiate the feeling of myself in that time. As you know, it can’t be done. So now, I look back on these memories with respect, and honor the me that lived that hologram.

Richard Rudd says, “Intimacy is the highest form of honesty.” In one’s passing, the need to wear our masks drops. We get real with people. I want to do that with you, and invite you to do that with the world. Who I’ve been is not who I am now, nor does it directly reflect who I am becoming. It plays a pivotal role in coloring my story with the richness and versatility of what I embody. I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death many times, just as you have too. As I walk through this passing, I do so fully conscious of what is happening and I have no personal fear or regrets.

As I tell more of my story, from different parts of the journey, I hope this one will bring a depth of perspective and understanding for how we can spin gold with the thread that once sealed our wounds.

Death is but the halfway point in transformation. Life is but the perpetual opening and closing of the door. There is nothing to fear, and everything to experience. We all will continue in the ongoing spiral of existence.

If you feel to share any part of your history that wants to be honored as it’s passing away, I welcome you to share in the comments.