I close my eyes and drop in and immediately, they are there. All of them, no faces, only hands and brilliant light figures.
The waves crash against the shoreline, my Celtic roots calling me home.
No faces, all hands, I hear it. "Let us love you. Allow us in."
All my energy is in my upper body. My feet are ice cold. Do I even have legs any more? The left side of my body hurts, pain surging up my spine, my heart space aching.
"Let us love you. Let us in."
I feel the rising waves of sadness. The sadness from this connection lost. And the deep sense of longing. The longing to return to my roots. To remember the place where these waves crash in rhythm with the blood and bones and breath of my ancestors.
The walls melt away as if they never even existed in the first place.
"I allow. I allow."
I allow it all in. All the love. All that wants to come to me, all that is meant for me, all that longs and yearns for me.
As the allowance of love grows, the pain dissipates. The energy running through my hands and forearms is so intense.
I don't think I could even move my arms if I tried. They're so heavy. Heavy with light. And there's holes, in each palm and each forearm, reminiscent of Jesus' palms. But these are not wounds. They are beaming vibrant, golden light.
As I continue to breathe and allow, acutely aware of the intense energy surging through my upper body, it's no surprise that my hands, the givers and receivers, are being activated.
My hands are an extension of my heart. This is where the love flows.
I allow. I allow.
My heart feels more free, my roots have grown even deeper, the waves continue to crash all around providing a familiar sense of comfort.
It is here that I know I have returned home.
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