The Epiphany

Epiphany! I have found the reason for all of my failed relationships. Of course, I figure this out one relationship too late. God must get a kick out of irony. (I know it’s all divine timing I’m just pouting.) So back to my epiphany, it all comes down to my relationship with my father. Now, one must understand that I have always known that my relationship with my father would play a part in every partnership I would encounter. However, I was unaware of how, well, unaware I would be about this. I knew it, but did nothing to reconfigure the karma. Frannie Hoffman is a wonderful catalyst for such a shifting. Side note: Frannie Hoffman is a spiritual counselor and intuitive. If you have any issues (meaning if you have a body you occasionally find imperfect, insecurities, financial dilemmas, emotions, came from a womb, anger towards anyone, or have ever had any question about the purpose of your existence) then you should seek this sort of counseling. It will allow you to work your own miracles, develop trust, and realize that any form of dysfunction you may be feeling always comes back to a lack of Divine Connection.
Ok, so back to my epiphany. That’s the thing about epiphanies. There are always there, but distractions are so easy…
My father was a pastor, a man of faith, a disciple of the Lord, speaker of the Truth, leader of the Way, and a seriously shitty father. I was forgotten at school, sometimes not picked up until well after the sun had set. I was verbally berated, constantly feeling small and defenseless, leading to defense mechanisms that would continue to space between my father and I, and ultimately my partners as well. I saw my dad as an obstacle that would eventually overcome. Something I could move on from and forget about, as I got older, moved out, and made my own decisions. Man, did I have another thing coming.
I have realized over the past few years that my differences with Dad are karmic. I will never, nor should I desire to, escape from it. It will be cyclical, repeating itself over and over again until I figure the damn thing out. Whenever I reach the point where I can look at my father and see him as a man, and not the ultimate creator of my pain, powerlessness, and darkness, then I will be free. Today I had a major breakthrough with this. Because my father was a minister, I associated him directly with God. Because I was raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught many lessons on how to be afraid of God. Well, I was afraid of my father, my father spoke often about knowing God, so by deductive reasoning my father must be God. That should be where I discover God. My seven-year-old self asks herself, “Where is God?” That man there in the pulpit, your father, the source of your reality, the provider of your home, food, and feelings. I realized today that because I chose to disconnect from my father, stray from him, never know him, never respect him, and avoid all he brings up in my emotional field, I have remained disconnected from my Truth, my Source, my God. God is not in my father. My father represents the duality, and my separation. I was so pissed off, thinking that none of my boyfriends were really connected to Spirit, that I was doing all of the Spiritual growth work hoping they would follow suit, jump in, and we were float away together on a cloud right up God’s butthole. I wasn’t really doing anything except looking for God IN them. Just like when I was a little girl and thought I could find God in my Daddy, I have held on to that lie thinking I can find God in someone else, something external, something other than myself. So after the layers are peeled away, there it is. If I STAY connected to God, then it doesn’t matter what my partner is doing, because I will see them as I see myself: connected. It was just frustrating them to hear me talk about it, and not really live it. I was sometimes connected, but I wasn’t staying connected when I was in their presence, leading me to experience the shadow of Shellie, the fearful Shellie, the small seven-year-old Shellie who did not know what her needs were, but certainly knew they weren’t being met by God, I mean, Dad.
Whew! Man, it’s so heavy. But you know what? I’m willing to go there. I’m willing to realize that there will be days when my entire belief system falls apart and it’s not about the other person. It’s about me. It’s about me, and my stuff, and the other person is just my reflection, projection, and wounded sibling. It wasn’t just my dad that fucked me all up, it was his dad too, and your dad, and my dad’s dad. It’s not just my abandonment and rejection and disconnection- it’s humanities. It is the entire existence. All I can do is see my own self, love unconditionally, receive instead of reject, invite instead of abandon, and connect with myself. Even when it sucks ass and the other person is triggering me in every way possible I still have a choice. I can freak out and lose myself, or, I can take a deep breath way down into my belly and stay connected. Stay connected to the negative, shadowy, small feelings, and realize that it’s mine. I earned it. Breathe into it, and let it out with each exhale. Invite the person triggering me to go take a walk, sit with me in a bath or under the stars, and let the weird sticky sensation dissipate. It’s MY shit. MINE. MINE. MINE. I feel like I should lick it or pee on it so no one else will want it. I’ve never wanted to claim it until now. I am simply ready to move forward. I know that if I just break-up and shut down, then I will certainly experience it again, just in a different shade, on a different set, with a different co-star.
So I think it’s time for Shellie at 24 to grab hands with Shellie at seven and get to know her Pop. Perhaps I’ll give Dad a call, or write him a letter just asking how his life is. If I don’t get to know him now, I fear I may cling to the father I knew seventeen years ago. That seems unfair, to think someone hasn’t changed or evolved in seventeen years. I mean, I certainly have, haven’t I? Or am I still perpetually seven years old? If I can’t get a present day relationship with my Dad, I will most likely continue to have past-tense relationships with my partners. My Dad was a pastor who couldn’t connect to the very Source he spoke of. My most recent partner was Healer who is couldn’t connect the very Source he spoke of. I am a Healer who couldn’t connect to the very Source she spoke of. Anyone see a pattern? For once, I do. I bow to the men who have brought me to this gift. Divine Connection. I couldn’t find it in them, but I found it from my interactions with them, and I am finally feeling right where it was the whole time. My heart. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, for all who were involved in bringing me to my Connection.