An Interrupted Blessing…Relax Please

Tobago, November 16th, 2022. Waning Moon, a week after a Full Lunar Eclipse. Beyond the interruptions of 2020 and all that came with the year that changed everything, I prepare to relaunch my book. As is the world, my book is now in a new version, the audiobook is recorded, uploaded, and ready for listening. I am listening…listening to myself from 2020 when I first wrote of the book’s release, what I knew then before the world took a long healing pause, and what I know now. I absolutely know more! As we all do. And, so much has changed…where I live, the work I do, me! As well as a lot remaining the same…who I love, my heart’s desire for my book, and the essence of me.

Today, I share this story again, the story of the blessing, and my memoir, A Series of Surrenders.

Today, I acknowledge that there are no straight lines and plenty of spirals.

Today, I access my gratitude for all my heart has learned and what it now shares.

Today, I invite you to reflect…early 2020 to NOW.

 

Tobago, January 10th, 2020. It’s the day of the full moon and a lunar eclipse and on this day I set my intention to release my book, A Series of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief, that I hope will be a healing balm to grieving hearts. I am in knots. I have been preparing a blessing to share and my vibration is set to tension rather than release. I decide to venture to the beach to breathe, relax and practice my blessing. I am hopeful that the ocean will ease me into the vibration I seek but do not yet feel. I know I am trying too hard. I am not at ease or surrender. 

 

At the beach I find no one, it is just me, the sand, and the waves. I sit under a tree and begin to speak the blessing, hoping that if I practice it aloud I will find the rhythm.  Within minutes, I sense and then see, two young men coming up close to me from behind. One of them comes to stand directly in front, towering over me. He looks at me and then at the phone in my lap. Without words, he grabs my phone. Instinct has me pull back with my phone firmly in my grasp. This gives the man the opportunity to see my bag placed next to me. He grabs my bag and so do I. We tussle and he pulls, I pull back. Contents of my bag are spilling out as the man begins to run with my bag, with me still holding on. I am pulled to my feet as I scream, “NO!” Running through my mind is a repeat of, “Why now? Why at the time of this blessing?” I lose the fight for my bag and the two men run towards the getaway car waiting for them on the beach road. 

 

In shock, I call my partner Smokey and ask him to come. I begin to gather the dropped contents of my bag and see that three fingers of my left hand are bent out of shape. Smokey arrives, we get ice for my hand and head to the police station and then the hospital. Through the ripples of shock beyond the tussle and the blessing I am lost in a loop of, “Why now?” It is obvious that the book launch and blessing will be postponed and rather than be up on a cliff at sunset offering my blessing, I will spend the night sitting out the long wait in the emergency room at the local hospital. 

 

Hours later I am sitting again by the water. It is dark and the moon is high. I am sitting beside Smokey with a cold beer in my unhurt right hand. As I ease into the numbing of the alcohol my shock settles upon anger. “How dare they!” I think, and deeper than that, “How dare the universe deliver such a blow on the day I was preparing a blessing!” Trust in the universe is broken and swallowed with the last gulp of the cold beer. 

 

I sleep uneasy and in pain. Upon waking, it is clear that my fingers are not set correctly. I return to the emergency room with pain in my fingers and in my heart. I am broken and without trust.

 

After hours at the hospital, new X-rays, a shot of morphine for the pain, and lots of waiting, it becomes evident that the five doctors I have seen over the last 24 hours have no idea how to set my middle finger that is badly dislocated and very swollen. I am now in a wheelchair sweating as their attempt to adjust my finger has caused nausea and a blackout. Smokey is telling me to trust him, to leave with him so he can take me to see a man called Mr. Williams in Plymouth. Mr. Williams is the guy gifted with bones and joints.  Smokey has been asking me to trust him and Mr. Williams for the past 24 hours. I do not know who or what to trust.

 

The doctors return to say they want to take blood, get a chest Xray and prepare me for surgery. They are advising I go under the knife so they can cut into my finger to see what is going on as they cannot manipulate it back into place. In my haze, I know the answer is a clear NO! I surrender and sign the ‘against medical advice form and leave the hospital with Smokey. We drive to Plymouth to seek out Mr. Williams. I am unsure what this will bring but I see no other option, it is time to trust Smokey and the man with the gift. 

 

In Plymouth, at Mr Willaims house, we find no one.  A man walking past tells us to look on the side of the house to find the number. Scribbled in pen on the wall of the house is a telephone number with the name Williams underneath. The number is reached and Mr. Williams tells us to come to the water. We reach a high vantage point over the jetty in Plymouth and an older thin man walked towards us.  This is Mr. Williams. He says little, asks to see my hand, and immediately tells me to relax, please. “three places, you have lost three places.” I am sweating, feel nauseous, and about to pass out. Smokey holds me up as Mr. Willaims continues to tell me to “relax please” as he manipulates my fingers. The pain is intense and then gone. “Move your hand for me please,” Mr. Williams asks. I look at my hand and see that after more than 24 hours of no movement all of my fingers are now moving freely and without pain. “Ok, you good now,” says Mr. Willaims as he begins to walk away. I lean over the hood of the car and breathe in my relief. Smokey follows Mr. Williams and places money in his pocket. Mr. Williams cannot accept our money by hand as his gift does not allow it, and he cannot ask for the money. He can accept the money without an exchange of hand. 

 

Later I ask Smokey how Mr. Williams knew his gift was joints and bones. The answer was a vision, he was told in a vision that this is his gift and for years he has been setting bones and joints. This is the gift that he accepted and trusted through his vision and the gift he freely gives. 

 

By the water, my fingers were broken, by the water my fingers were healed. By two men who had lost their way, I was robbed. By one man who was sharing his gift, I was healed. The evening after the mugging I was angry and told Smokey I was losing trust in the universe. The evening after meeting Mr. Williams my trust is restored. To the men who robbed me, I hope they see into their own vision and choose better for themselves. To Mr. Willaims, I say thank you for sharing your gift with me and not only setting my fingers but resetting my trust in the universe. To me, I say, be gentle, do not try so hard, allow the release and trust.

 

In my morning meditation the day after meeting Mr Williams I saw gentle waves as the release of my book. Grief cannot be rushed, launched, pushed or pulled. My book is in service of grieving hearts and I must now trust that my gift in this book will reach those who need it, gently, as grief advises. I am reminded to do as Mr. Willaim says, “relax please.”

 

My Blessing

 

Death comes bearing gifts

The act of love in grief is the learned practice of unwrapping those gifts.

I have received many gifts.

A Series of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief is my wish for you to unwrap the gifts available to you. 

My hope is that my story is a healing catalyst for your own relationship to grief, your broken pieces, or what you have lost.

Today’s release and blessing is for YOU

 

Energy from the heaven

Energy from the earth

Guided by the light of the sun and the glow of the moon

I seek the healing and blessing that is needed here today

I call upon the elements of fire, water, air, and earth

I anchor my blessing in all four cardinal directions: north, south, east, and west

I invite all lightworkers, guides, angels, and souls holding space for grieving hearts

I ask now for my blessing to be released from me, across the sea, and into the wide horizon

 

May A Series Of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief find its way into the hands of those who need this story

May A Series Of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief assists to ease the ouch of loss and be a healing balm to hurt hearts

May A Series Of Surrenders ~  a memoir of grief reach beyond the imagination of borders and be found far and wide

May A Series Of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief be freely gifted to those in need at the exact moment they are ready to receive

May A Series Of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief be at service and add love to every corner it reaches

 

For you, I wish you ease as you heal, light to guide your way in dark times, and angelic protection.

For you, I will be your anchor

For you, I release my story

 

In service to love and in the light

A Series Of Surrenders ~ a memoir of grief now belongs to you

Share freely, gently, and with trust

May grief and love gift you with exactly what you need

 

From me to you

Big love and many blessings

Debra Lynne Driscoll

 

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