The Healing Power of Presence ~ Bonus
Book Bonus for The Gifted Highly Sensitive Introvert
In one of my darker moments
I turn to you for help, Doctor #1.
I confide in you,
“I’d rather not be here on this planet.”
You say, “Maybe you made the wrong choice.”
I sullenly agree, “Maybe I did.”
You use your newest procedures.
“Maybe this one will work this time,”
I think to myself sarcastically.
I know you are sincere and you want to help.
But I don’t feel you connecting with me,
and I leave just as blasé as I entered.
I’ve been down this road so many times.
I turn to you, Doctor #2.
I confide in you,
“I’d rather not be here on this planet.”
You ask me to tell you more.
“Since the last time I saw you,
I’ve had more physical pain and more emotional pain.”
You test me and tell me that there is
a ton of emotional pain in my shoulder
and that it’s not going to get well if it’s treated just on a physical level.
You look deep into my soul through the window of my eyes,
and your eyes begin to tear as your voice cracks,
and you tell me about the emotional pain I’ve stored in my body since age seven.
You feel with me as tears stream down your face and mine.
You hold my hands in your hands,
and I hold yours in return.
You speak to me in a gentle, knowing, wise way as you focus on my dark interior.
You speak to me of your similar pain, and how you have done your own work
to meet your wounded child and to bring your wise adult self
into relationship with your inner children of many ages.
Again you speak to me of the pain of my 7-year-old who felt so lost and unloved by Mom.
She was so disconnected and afraid.
Despair is what you called it.
I told you about how many times I have visited this grief,
and how many times I have healed this very issue,
and how I am visiting it at yet another layer of insight and awareness.
You agree.
We entered the pain together, at depth, and with love.
You cried as we entered, feeling my pain in your body.
I trusted you.
You made it safer for me to feel my pain.
You opened a door.
You held me while
I sobbed
and cried
and breathed.
And then I was done crying.
And then I had no physical pain.
And then I knew I was truly loved.
And that helped me love myself more deeply.
In my body.
In my heart.
In my soul.
Grief is so hard sometimes.
So relentless.
Sometimes seeming to have no end.
Letting go is one step.
Another step is experiencing the bond between my own inner mother
and my inner child so my child’s needs are met.
This is an on-going process I started a long time ago.
Sometimes my inner child is very needy and she hurts very much,
Even after all these years of work.
And now I go deeper into the healing.
Deeper into the relationship with my inner mother and my inner child.
Dear doctor, your nurturing energy helped me heal in this half hour.
You have the ability to be so totally present with me
because you have done so much of your own healing work.
You have visited your own pain
and made friends with your own process of grieving.
You don’t have to run from me in my grief and sorrow and
treat me with techniques which further distance me from my pain.
I am so grateful for you because you connected with me so completely this day.
If you ever doubt yourself, like I sometimes do,
always remember that you made a big difference in my life today.
Many blessings to you,
My dear, doctor.
Benita A. Esposito
Author: Benita A. Esposito is a Licensed Professional Counselor in Georgia. She also provides services worldwide as a life coach and a spiritual counselor. In-person and videoconferences are available. Benita earned a master’s degree in clinical psychology from Illinois State University in 1976. She sees adult individuals and couples in private sessions and in intensive retreats. She loves retreats the best because so much transformation occurs in such a short time.
Complete the Contact Page to request a complimentary 10-minute phone session to discuss life coaching or counseling.
To read more poems and blog posts to help Sensitive Introverts thrive, visit www.SensitiveIntrovert.com.
Copyright 2018. Flourishing Love Press, LLC. All rights reserved.