Once I Didn't Know That I Had Wounds

Once I didn't know that I had wounds. They were buried under my shame, under the shadow of my denial and ocean of uncried tears, and rooted in belief systems which told me that I had to be nice, good, smiling, happy to be acceptable, safe, and maybe loved. It was very lonely during the years that I was so cut off from my heart — both my sorrow and my joy — and, therefore, from everyone else's hearts, too.

Instead I played the pretend game:

— I'm fine, thank you very much.

— Lookin' for a lover, and friends, who won't blow my cover.

— Got that image management thing down. 

— Living two lives, the surface one and the one beyond my conscious awareness and understanding or that of anyone else's.

— Everyone else drinks and smokes, right? It's normal.

— If my mother and my husband would just get fixed and change, I'd be fine! 

— What fear?

Then on Tuesday, Februay 8th, 1983 at about 8:37pm my close friend Ann Baker said, "Molly, your husband is an alcoholic." But she had to be wrong. I didn't know any alcoholics! (Talk about denial...) And those words began the process of the whole world as I knew it falling out from underneath me. And everything changed! Everything!

Yes, the wound is where the Light enters you. This teaching is a profound gift.

Bless us all on our journeys of

healing and awakening. 

— Molly

❤