Not long ago, while on a trip with my oldest daughter and infant son, I had an experience that I haven’t told anyone about yet, but which I feel the need to share. I hope it will open up the dialogue about something beautiful that we as women are missing needlessly in the practice of our lives.
One night of this trip found me at my sister’s house with a baby that was not well. I’m pretty sure he had an ear infection from a cold virus and a very raw throat from breathing through his mouth. His lips were cracked and he was spitting up a lot from the mucus that was draining down to his stomach. At three in the morning, he woke up screaming and was completely inconsolable. So here I was, virtually alone and at a loss for what to do. I didn’t realize how much I relied on my husband for emotional support and a clear head during times like these, and I found myself feeling very suffocated and panicked. I gave my son some tylenol but he was still screaming and wouldn’t let me comfort him.
It was then, as I sat with him, on the verge of tears myself, that I prayed in a way I have not prayed before. I felt very strongly that I wanted my mother to be there to help me in my time of stress. But at first I interpreted this as wanting my earthly mother, as she is always very calm and collected with sick children. But then I realized that it was my heavenly mother whose presence I craved. I wanted to tap into that source of comfort and strength that she embodies in my mind, and in a moment of pure revelation, I knew of no other way to do so than to offer a blessing to my sick baby.
So with a confidence that I rarely feel, I looked at my hands and remembered a premonition that I had felt in a yoga session during a particular mudra. I had known that my hands held power. Real energy and power with which to bless the lives of others. And as I recalled this memory, I placed my hands on my son and blessed him to be well enough to sleep through the night. And it was then that I knew. I knew that this was something that I am meant to do. Yes, my son calmed down and was able to go back to sleep. Yes, that could have been a coincidence. But what I cannot deny, was the way that this simple act of faith in myself affected me. Even more than the outcome I desired for my child, I had received a sort of answer and acknowledgement of something even more important. I connected the divine spark within myself with a higher source. I felt it. I knew it was right and good. And I was comforted and able to do what I needed to do.
I have hesitated to share this experience. Perhaps because it was and is sacred to me. But I also have noticed that I am afraid of being chastised or told that I was wrong to do this. I’ve been afraid of not being received well or having someone not understand. But I don’t think we should subdue these experiences or suppress these calls when they rise up within us. And I hope that by sharing, we will each become more comfortable with our own spiritual power.