"I know this is gonna sound weird, but have you tried asking your psoriasis why it's here?"
"No! What the hell?" My little sister rolled her eyes as she scratched at her full body outbreak.
"I know you're not into this stuff, but your body talks and every illness or disease in the body is beyond just the physical. It could be emotional, spiritual or mental. You might as well just give it a shot. The worst case is that you don't get anything."
"I don't know, man." She said reluctantly.
"Maybe other people have discovered something around it in those areas. Let's google it." I pulled out my phone and looked up "spiritual emotional meaning psoriasis." The results were actually abundant with answers on forums, integrative medicine specialists, spiritual teachers and healers alike. I scanned them, reading recurring keywords and phrases out loud. I suddenly read something that blurred all the rest: "...the skin’s natural protective function has been turned into a form of armor: the sufferers in question are shutting themselves off in both directions. They are no longer willing to let anything either in or out." We looked at each other in resonant agreement. That was her.
"Do you feel unsafe?" I asked her.
She shrugged.
"Can I just lead you through the process, please?" I begged.
"Fine." She said, annoyed.
We climbed into the hammock in our backyard, facing each other. I instructed her to lie down and follow my voice. I'd never led my sister through a meditation before. I watched the tension in her body release as she breathed, every muscle softening. I watched her brow unfurl. Her fingers unclench. I watched a piece of her armor fall.
When she opened her eyes, I felt an uncontrollable maternal wave come over me.
"Can you lie in my arms?" I asked vulnerably.
My sister and I were much more comfortable wrestling and calling each other "bro," than being sweet and snuggly.
She squinted her eyes at me, but with a flicker of something that looked like, "I'm happy you asked."
Like a child, she crawled into my lap and laid her head onto my chest.
The air was gentle and warm. The afternoon sky was hazy, making the light a pale, glowing orange. In my line of vision, I could see the sun and five stalks of oleander sprouting from the edge of our property, waving slightly in the breeze. I could see locks my sister's blonde hair lifting with every sway of the hammock. I could feel my heart, completely full.
I drifted to when she was a newborn and I was just five, sneaking her out of her crib during nap time and late at night to hold her. I couldn't wait for her to be born in the world. I couldn't wait to have a little sister and to be a big one. I remember feeling a love for her I can only imagine mothers feel for their children. It was big love - ginormous love.
As I got older, I got meaner. Everything she did was suddenly annoying. I shut her out. I shut her down.
When I moved out of the house forever at eighteen years old, she handed me a doll on my way out. It had a rolled up piece of paper inside it that said: I wish you were nicer to me."
It haunted me. When she made mistakes, I wondered if she wouldn't have made them if I'd been nicer. When she struggled, I wondered if she would've done better if I'd have been nicer. When she drifted away from me, I wondered if she would've stayed closer if I'd have been nicer.
It was my biggest regret.
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you." I repeated the Ho'oponopono forgiveness prayer over and over in my head, sending love through every beat of my heart.
I did it until it felt complete. I did it until I felt presence. I felt like I was floating. There was nothing else in the world that mattered. I felt oxytocin course through my veins and heal everything that hurt or worried inside of me. Even though her entire weight was on my chest, I could breathe deeper than I ever had. Tender tears streamed down my cheeks as I remembered words from one of my teachers: "if it is safe, and you have faith in it, and you believe it, you can fall asleep in it."
Samantha was asleep in my arms, snoring faintly in the muted sunlight.
I laid there with a kind of love, relief and contentment I'd never experienced. I was smiling incessantly with my teeth with no one to even see it.
She woke up and looked at me, "how long was I asleep?"
"Like forty-five minutes." I laughed.
"And you didn't wake me up?!" She asked with shock.
"No. Honestly... I got exactly what I wanted." I joked seriously.
She paused and stared into my eyes, searchingly. "Well..." She started, "You got what you wanted. Now scram!"
I buckled to my knees with convulsive giggles and wept happily into the grass. All I could hope was that she felt healed in the way that I did. All I could hope was that she could finally feel safe.
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This moment wouldn't have been able to happen without my work with my internal feminine and affirming my safety. It allowed for the healing intimacy I needed. If this interests you at all, reach me for a 1:1 free consultation. Let's heal.
