It’s Easter morning 2015, and I am awakened by my sweet hubby bringing me coffee in bed. Still in my sleepy fog, I inquire about this special treatment, and he answers, “Happy Easter.”
Logically, I should have felt nurtured and peaceful in this moment, but instead, I was flooded with guilt. Sadly, guilt is not an unusual emotion of mine.
I felt guilty that Easter is about honoring Christ’s death and resurrection, and I realized that I had not chosen to connect with Christ Consciousness (CC) energy in a very long time. This Easter felt like any other day, and that felt wrong to me.
During our “dance church” this morning, I took a break from movement so that I could sit and meditate. A song with the refrain “I am Blessed” serenaded my meditation. Immediately, my awareness went to my guilt from earlier this morning. I acknowledged that CC has been so loving and understanding and patient with me, and yet I continue to barricade myself from him. I acknowledged that I close him out because of the overwhelming pain and sadness that floods me sometimes when I think of him. Keeping Christ at arm’s length feels safer than feeling the anguish. Though it is difficult to explain how and from where and when this pain stems, I am just going to share my feelings openly here.
The pain of his crucifixion is unbearable to me. Not only was his suffering horrendous, but the knowing that we, that is humanity, chose to crucify a being of profound love and truth is unfathomable. My heart literally feels broken, and hopeless.
The grief of no longer being in his physical presence during his/our lifetime over 2000 years ago remains in my soul through time and lifetimes, to this very moment.
Alone. My aloneness feels bigger than me, bigger than I can process or handle. Yes, Christ appeared to us several times after his death and we knew his spirit lived on, but the human part of me was still devastated, and is still devastated.
And then Christ spoke to me about my ALONENESS.
“Why would you hold on to the pain of our physical separation, which was so long ago and so temporary? Why do you hold onto the pain of aloneness when we have been together for so much more in and out of time?”
He acknowledged that when I am in physical form there exists a veil, like a sheer curtain, between us. Yet, if I choose, I can see him and experience him on the other side smiling at me, loving me, dancing with me, in union with me. He also shared that I can literally part the veil or lift it at any time, as if it is a cloud that I can dissolve and dissipate with my intent, by simply knowing that it is possible and choosing it. We can dance together, any time, any where.
In that moment, at dance church on Easter Sunday, I chose to dance with Christ.
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