Were you ashamed of your parents? I wanted to ask my mom that question, but I couldn’t because that would be confessing that I was ashamed of her. Feeling shame feels… shameful. Why did that feeling come up? Was it my fault I felt ashamed of her? Or was it put on me?
Could she help me with this darkest and most sticky emotion? The other reason I couldn’t ask her was because she was dead, and the way she died was the reason. She died when I was 8, leaving 4 daughters and a husband. I was the youngest. My three big sisters and my Dad protected me and filled in the gaping void the best they could. But this was the late 70’s. Access to positivity was not filling up our social media feeds. I was also fine, mostly. Sad at times, especially around mother’s events at school but I had care and love.
I made it through grammar school, high school, college, got a job and had a career I loved. I traveled. I found love and fell hard. Phil and I got married and got pregnant within 2 years of meeting. No shotgun was involved! I wanted this. I went from focused go-getter girl to I want to have a baby, now!
This kind of love had been missing from my life. When I bumped into it, in that lower Westside bar, everything became crystal clear. Like the muse, an artist needs to create. His love woke up and inspired a whole new me, it was otherworldly. I had told him about my mother’s suicide but he was one of a literal handful of people I shared this with. It was only shared with people who had earned the privilege. I had to feel safe around you first. Later I went to a psychic who told me my mother likes Phil. A message from a stranger, blurting that out. Well, I took it as a sign.
Holding in shame to me feels like swimming in a tar pit with rocks in your pockets. You have to fight hard to not get sucked under. You can only keep fighting for so long. When the comfort and unconditional love found me, it was like I found a whole part of my being I didn’t know existed. Like one of those dreams where you find that a large wing exists in your house or apartment. I found my healing way through motherhood, art, dance, and mystical healing. As I unpacked my past I am often reminded of what happened that day my mom died. She had come to me and given me a message. One that was revealed to me in meditation. It took only a couple of decades to decipher!
My journey can never be exactly duplicated, it taught me to listen to nature and teachers, but mostly to listen to my wise inner voice. The biggest teachers were the most difficult ones. The ones that cause shame. Like my mom. She didn’t die to teach me a lesson but I did learn from her. My work is me sharing me. My joy and my shame. It shows up like a labyrinth walk, paving the path as I go. Labyrinth, a single path to center, not a maze with options. We are each walking our own labyrinth guided by teachers, spirits, and nature. Unpacking our treasures and sharing our shame is sharing the wealth and the way. Here now as I breathe, I am grateful for all of you that I share this journey with.
Submitted by JoJo Keane, energy healer, mind/body/spirit Coach and yoga-healer teacher. JoJo is also a motivational speaker, writer and leads workshops in energy healing, yoga/dance and movement. JoJo is a master teacher, using Quantum Healing a multi-disciplinary technique she created and customizes for you. Releasing held patterns in your mind and body that have created ruts or trauma loops. With her support she helps you shift the energy in your body/brain/home. From the practical to the magical, her approach is intuitive and creative. She has helped thousands of adolescents, women and men get unstuck from trauma to recovery. Come and start your journey back to an inspired joy-filled life.
www.Inspiredsoul.net, keane.jojo@gmail.com 203.994.2834