Tammy Letherer If you’re like me, you probably spent some time this month laid up in the house with the flu. But I wonder if you, like me, struggle with those housebound days becoming an open house for every fear and doubt you’ve ever had.
Illness seems to hit me hardest in my emotional body. As I lay on the couch with my household falling down around me (my children eating popcorn for lunch and polishing off chewable vitamin C tablets like they were candy, the dog peeing on the floor) I don’t have the strength to keep my thoughts positive.
My poor old dog is in organ failure. How will I know when it’s her time to go? I hate that she’s dying. What if I’m dying? We’re all dying. Life is so sad. My children are growing up so fast. They hardly need me anymore. There’s nothing but barren branches out my window.
*Heavy sigh*
Fear pounds at the door, and whether I open it or not, it screams so loudly that it’s hard to ignore. Correction: it’s hard for me to ignore. I can’t do it alone, from my helpless position on the couch.
So I call in the big guns: Father God, Mother Earth, all of the Archangels (especially Michael to handle the doubts, and Raphael for healing), my Earth angel friends, animal guides, you name it. It’s a pretty impressive group because I like to get all the help I can. I put out a massive S.O.S and, without fail, something shows up to remind me that:
1. I am safe. 2. I am loved. 3. Everything happens for my good.
And my faith is restored.
During my recent illness, grace showed up in the advice of a colleague who suggests laughing as a way to be more attractive to yourself and others. My funny bone was as stiff and achy as the rest of my body, but I decided to give it a try. I found some videos of a comedian named Brian Regan and got so drawn into his hilarious take on everyday events that I began to feel better.
I turned around to laugh at my fears, and discovered they were gone.
Sometimes, for whatever reason, you’re stuck in your house, without many choices. But when it comes to your energetic home, you always have a choice. Your space is so sacred, your peace of mind so valuable. You get to decide when to open the door and when to close it. You intuitively know which “visitors” drag you down, and which actions restore you to your faith.
What kind of gatekeeper will you be? What act of faith can you make today to feel better on some level? What’s waiting for you right now, just outside the door?
