40. Compassion of a Broken Heart


BLOG 40: August, 1998—The summer rain came and went; the cars on the nearby New Jersey highway hummed incessantly; and the fast paced East Coast life continued as I lived with my parents in an effort to heal the pain in my hip.

I found work as an assistant editor and writer for an Irish magazine whose offices were down the road from us. I then lay on my parent’s couch as I wrote, because chairs were too painful. My father hated seeing me so weak and vulnerable, and would get angry at me for lying down so much and not having the strength or capacity to bike or walk. But I resisted doing what he assumed any 30-year-old should be able to do because too often, if I biked or walked more than a few blocks, my muscles would go into spasm, my right hip and groin would inflame, and I’d have sleepless nights with an overactive nervous system.

That was almost twenty years ago, when I wondered if I would even walk with ease again, as I tried every which way to heal, and hit wall upon wall, wondering why it had to be so hard. That was when, at times, I wished I could just end my life, since living with such disability and pain didn’t seem worth it. I had been like a wild horse, suddenly lame, longing to be put out of my misery.

Today, as I walk and help others heal, I watch my father in his elder years struggling with cancer, with multiple surgeries, and with pain in his left leg that at times seems too much for him to bear. I see him wondering at what point each surgery, each attempt to eliminate pain, is worth it, when he can’t walk like he used to or do what he loves.

A week ago, I was with my father and mother in Virginia, massaging my father’s legs from edema (water retention in his right leg), helping him prepare for his next surgery, his next battle against aging and debilitation. I was there being with the reality of his condition, grateful for the chance to share this time with him and my mother and be a gift of love.img_0910

That night I flew back home to New Mexico, I cried a deep grief, feeling the hopelessness and pain I had once lived and that now I see my father going through. The man who had earlier been so strong, angry, and lacking in compassion for the pain I had lived through, is now the same one feeling that pain for himself. And rather than be angry for what I didn’t receive then, I am grateful that my own limitations and journey broke my heart open to compassion and deep love. I can now be there for my parents, and we can share our love fully while there is time.


*My recently-published novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, tells a story of compassion and love. Check it out on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Child-Duende-Journey-Michelle-Adam/dp/099724710X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1474233011&sr=8-1&keywords=child+of+duende  or at www.michelleadam.net

5 thoughts on “40. Compassion of a Broken Heart

  1. Great story. I am empath and a Shamanic healer. I found the more I was able to retrieve the parts of my own soul, the more I had the courage for self love. When I could love myself better, I found I was able to connect with that which was love in other people and was able to strengthen that love with my presence.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Beautifully said, Leeby. It sounds like we have walked a similar journey as empaths and shamans. I like what you say about being able to love yourself. It is so true. To come to this place of self love is so delicious and it makes loving and having compassion for others so much more possible. Pain and challenges like I went through pushed open the door to retrieving my soul, all of me, and being love embodied on this earth. My novel, Child of Duende, which was recommended by several well known shamans…Sandra Ingerman, John Perkins, etc….is in many ways one big soul retrieval. I feel so blessed. Where do you live, by the way? What part of the world belongs to you right now?

      Liked by 1 person

      • Thank you. That use of the word delicious is apt when talking about pain. I have found that my experience of pain both mine and others is different since having achieved that tipping point in my soul retrieval work, where no matter how hard social traumas may try to penetrate to the core of your of your true will, your embodiment of divine love, it has no currency. It has a flavour that is not entirely unpleasant, there is a gnawing feeling but beneath it lies a kind of delicious expectation that this energy is being transmuted as it moves through, and that you are empowered to scoop this luminescence from the surface and temper it into an experience of beauty. It’s the alchemical process. And it is not done alone. Our experience of the world changes with that. Wow, congratulations on the novel. That must be quite an honour. I would love to read it. I would also be honoured to feature a promotion for it on my website and my G-plus community. Where are you selling it from?

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Soul Retrieval: Tipping Point | Shamagaia

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