During the past several months, a collection of very spontaneous yet profound experiences occurred which, in many ways, impacted the way I have expanded my coaching and guidance work. Overall, this collection of experiences relate to the transitional state of being we call dying and how, as a catalyst for sexual healing, Erotic Educator, or whatever the heck one wants to call me, I can be instrumental in easing the fear, stress and pain of that process.
A beloved friend, loosing his precious wife to a fatal and fast moving cancer, recently reached out to me for some emotional support.
My friend desperately needed a quiet and peaceful place to simply lay his head and cry, talk through his pain and express his fear. He appeared at my door bewildered, exhausted and with eyes full of sorrow.
It was his 30th wedding anniversary. He wanted to treat his beloved to a visit to the beach or a day-spa massage. She did not have the strength for it. The previous weekend had been emotionally draining for them both as well a physically draining for his beloved. It was Easter and their sons had traveled to spend precious time with her. The parting goodbyes were difficult for them all to handle for it would probably be the last time they would see her alive. The realization became real; he was going to loose the woman he loved, his soul mate, at some time over the next few weeks or months – no one could give him a definite answer. The only thing definite he knew was that there was not a damned thing he could do about it.
He was both angry and sad. Most of all he felt defeated – totally - not in control of things that were going to happen to his beloved, or himself for that matter.
A part of him felt guilty that he was so angry and sad that he did not know what was going to happen to him. So much was unknown and he was frightened. What would he do without her? How could he remain strong for her when his heart was breaking? Dear God, why was this happening to him? How could he be so cruel as to worry about his future when she was loosing hers?
As we sat at opposite ends of the sofa, and he poured out his anguish, I held his bare feet in my hands. I filled one palm with healing lotion and began to gently massage one foot and then the other, paying special attention to reflexology points I knew to be relevant. I could feel the stress drop away. I could see him holding back the tears, swallowing his grief and uncertainty. Our eyes met and held for several moments. I radiated pure unconditional loving energy through my body and out my eyes. Compassion, understanding and encouragement intended from my heart to his. My hands channeled warmth and vibrating touch into his feet and up his legs.
I suggested that he close his eyes and allow his mind to rest and drop into his body and his soul and just be, interrupting nagging thoughts with a silent mantra of “this feels so good, this feels so good.” Within seconds, the tension left him and his breathing softened into a relaxed rhythm. The stress lines left his face and he was altered, ready to receive the energetic bodywork I was prepared to give him.
I slowly moved away from him to attend to last minute details in the healing sanctuary. I lit three candles, one for him and one for me and in between the two, I lit a third and invited his beloved soul-mate's energy and her love into the space. I connected energetically with her and asked that she allow me to channel her love and energy through my fingers, my body and my entire energetic being. I waited until I felt her presence, then left to fetch him.
I quietly roused him and led him onto the healing room and helped him undress. I guided him to lay face down on the healing table and began to dance my fingers gently over his being and her energy into his soul. I don’t remember the process; only the experience. I experienced his fear of the future and asked it to leave his body; I experienced his anger and asked it to scream from his body; I experienced the flood of tears that he stored deeply inside and asked them to flow. I held the sacred space for him to empty and allow light into his dark. It took holy instant after holy instant, masked within more than an hour, for all this to happen. He screamed his fears and his anger, cried gallons of tears - the sobs racking his physical being as he cried. When it was time to stop, he lay quietly sobs turning to snuffles. I bundled him in a cool sheet and let him drift in his own softness.
As I slipped out the door, his phone rang in the outer sanctuary. I took it to him, knowing it was his beloved asking him to come home. She wanted chicken, mashed potatoes and juice. Most of all she wanted him. He simply looked at me and said, “Thank you, I know nothing more to say, simply thank you, you are an angel.”
I simply smiled and answered, “My pleasure.”