Telling my Mom what it is that I really do for a living

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While I was visiting my folks in Florida over Yule holidays, my mom said to me, "I don't really know what it is that you do. Tell me." I took a big breath and started telling her. Aaaand then she interrupted and started talking about the only subject she likes to talk about: voice teaching and her current crop of voice students. My mom is singularly determined in that regard.

I let it go. I know that she absorbs written word well, so I figured I'd write it all out and send it to her. This one's for you, mom.

Dear Mom,
    I work with energies and energy fields of clients and places, finding and clearing those which get in the way of what is wanting to unfold, bringing back the ones that are missing, and untangling the ones that are all snarled up together. I use all of the considerable tools I've gathered over the decades to do this. I don't heal anyone; rather, I do my best to create the best conditions under which my client can find their own healing. 

What the Hell? I hear you say. Yes, that's really what I do in a nutshell.

It's like walking a tightrope each time, finding the balance with each step, breathing and trusting that there's something solid in front of me to walk on, even if I can't feel it. I work with the compassionate powers, and they give me advice and plans on how to proceed. They are not my net; my success and failure depend on where and how carefully, artfully, I place my feet for each step. I can easily make a mistake and fall, losing it all. I must constantly catalog the barrage of input from all of my senses simultaneously while keeping my eye on my goal in order to get through it well and to do a good job. 

The ancestors and Helping Spirits are my crowd, watching intently. Incidentally, they are at every rehearsal, too. They've seen me fall a million times. Even when I feel as if I'm finally gaining a wee bit of mastery, my stomach still flips each time I begin. Can I do it this time? Will this be the one trip I can't make? Will I drop my client? I sweat. Every time. 

Most times, it works. There might be a wobble or two when I'm right in the middle of everything. I might doubt, hesitate. But the way is mostly always clear, if only I have the courage to walk it. 

So what does this mean? What am I really talking about? 

It means that my attention, intention and concentration are everything. I have to maintain them every microsecond. The little dances I do out on the wire, the modalities I'm using in a session; they're less important. Important, but in a secondary way, really. Ok, this tightrope analogy is not holding together well at this point, so I'll drop it now. I've learned that my attention, concentration and intention must not waver when I'm working with a client. Deep in my soul, I have to know, in each moment, that there is healing available even though I might not know what it is going to look like. My job is to hold fast that knowing, no matter what, and in a way that is as large and beautiful, and as luxurious as I can manage. Creating and holding open the possibility of a miraculous healing with no stray doubts is the only way that one can manifest.

That's what I really do. It's not about the spirit clearings, extractions, soul retrievals, curse unravelings, or reading the Knowing Field in a family constellation. They are important, and I must do them as well as I can manage, that is true. But at the heart of it, I am holding onto the biggest truth I know about my client, about their Divine nature, that they are made of Light, and doing all I can to remind them or convince them of it as deeply as I know and am convinced of that. To see them as the perfection I know them to be, in this moment, no matter what. 

That's what I really do, Mom.