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The call to heal

Updated: Nov 28, 2022

If you have visited me as a client or as student for any of my classes or gatherings, you have seen her.

She is always presiding every healing session and ceremony with her intriguing smile and calming presence.

Some of you have asked me who she is and where I got her from.

Some of you have sat down and spent time with me, patiently listening to the whole story.

Girl with feather by Anahata k. Joy
My ancestrita (my young ancestor), as I dearly call the art piece 'Girl with feather' by Anahata k. Joy

In one of those warm summer nights of 2016 when I used to stay up late avidly reading The time in between by Maria Dueñas, I went to bed reflecting in awe about how the author had managed to put together such an intense historical drama. I lied down in the dark thinking about all the research she must had done to get all the details of the world of espionage during the Spanish civil war, but above all, I was enchanted because most of the locations the novel took place in, I had visited. I was mentally going over the names of the cities and the memories popping up with them: Madrid, Tangier, Tétouan, Lisbon... "I have certainly left many pieces of me over there," I silently stated and continued to close my eyes resting them in preparation for a promising good night's sleep.

Through our bedroom's curtainless window, the white glow of the street light in front of our house would always sneak in, giving us the sensation of a perpetual full moon display every night. Since we don't like curtains, we got used to perceiving this light with our eyelids shut and somehow it became soothing.

But that night had prepared something different for me.

My thoughts were still going when I finally found my perfect position by resting flat on my back without any pillows.

And then, darkness.

The usual moon-like light I was still perceiving was replaced by a pitch-black mantle.

In one second, my whole body became aware of a presence, just above me.

I must have experienced what felt like five seconds of fight-or-flight reflex reaction, mainly adrenaline pumping and muscle tightening.

Until I heard the voice: "It is time."

Perhaps I will never understand the recognition of this voice by my autonomic nervous system as my body calmed down and relaxed immediately as soon as I heard those words - "The unconscious mind knows it all, dear", Carl Jung would say.

When I finally opened my eyes, I started scanning the black space from side to side. It felt like the dream state but I was awake and fully conscious, not quite the same as during a shamanic trance but close.

There was a sense of anticipation, the knowing that soon I would meet the source of that voice.