“Wings”

Silence in the car. Kyle is with me, and he is silent as well. Usually, he sings along to popular hits in a sarcastic falsetto. But I turned the radio off as we got closer to Redondo Avenue. The silence suits us, though. We can be silent and still feel comfortable being in each other’s presence. I park my Expedition in a street adjacent from the Sacred Roots Holistic Healing house, and then he breaks the silence.

-Nicole Scheurer

“You could’ve parked right over there,” he points to a street closer. I parked parallel to a park, squeezed in between two cars. “Well, I wanted to park here okay?” I caught myself.

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous. I mean really, how can this be real? Angels telling us about our souls?” “Maybe it is all a ploy set up by the hipsters,” replies Kyle.

“Hopefully there is free food.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at him.

Admittedly, I am a skeptic; how can spiritual beings help me feel better? I couldn’t grasp my mind around how angels could heal wounds. But that we could heal ourselves, yes. How were the angels involved? Holding hands, we looked both ways and when traffic was clear we j-walked over to the house.

“Sacred Roots Holistic Healing” is printed on an unpolished wood sign that hangs above the door. I see Felise in the doorway, keys in her hand. I realize we are ten minutes early.

[aesop_chapter title=”Meeting Felise” bgtype=”img” full=”on” img=”http://thelovestory.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Felise_Garcia_Bio_Angel_Gatherings.jpg” bgcolor=”#888888″]

 

“Would you like a quick tour?” she asks.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, getting up from the seat.

The three of us walked down the hallway, located near the fireplace, and I was hit by the deep musk of sandalwood incense.

“This here is the bathroom,” Felise said, pointing to a close door on the right, “and this is the beverage station. Feel free to grab anything you like if you are thirsty.”

There was a milieu of tea jumbled on a serving cart against the wall with a hot water maker and a Keurig.  The rest of the tour, which lasted only five minutes more, contained three rooms for massages, mediation, and group discussion areas. As the other clients started to arrive, Felise ended the tour.

We took our seats on the floor, bringing with us the enormous pillows from the love seat. Felise gathers the four others, and asks us to sit in a semi-circle. There is another man there, and instantly I feel better about bringing Kyle, as if more testosterone in the room would make him feel comfortable about participating in a meditation session. He brought a friend, a girl with a long ponytail and soft smile. The last two were small and dark, their hair shiny like ravens’ wings. When we were all situated on the floor, Felise sat in front of us, completing our half-moon. Candles were lit, and although no tea was brewing, the scent still lingered. I closed my eyes to the soothing melody playing.

[aesop_chapter title=”Getting In” bgtype=”img” full=”on” img=”http://thelovestory.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/angel-pic.jpg” bgcolor=”#888888″]

 

Felise sits straight; her eyeliner makes her eyes seem brighter, and she captures total attention from around the room. Her movements are soft, meticulously calculated it seems, but with an air of humility. She talked to the clients a little before the session, recognizing one man and smiling, asking him how he is doing.

She then asks us to close our eyes and listen to her voice, “Imagine now, that you are in your realm of tranquility. It can be wherever you want, it can be this very room or a place you have never been to before.” The sound of it soothes like hot cinnamon on a cold winter’s evening. “Now imagine yourself wiping clean all that happened today. Wipe clean your worries, your doubts, the negativity, all the hurt that has been building within your self.”

As the meditation starts, the cadence of her voice turns into a trance-like melody, one that somehow relaxed me into a dream-like state. “Once you have cleansed yourself of the negative energy,” Felise continues, “you will feel relieved and warm, like wrapping yourself in a fuzzy blanket.” I felt my body loosening, my movements became slow and sloshy. I was in the sea of my inner being, and surrounding me was the warm, honey-esque liquid that slurred my movements. I was scratching at the surface of my inner being, of that place inside your mind that holds ever bit of information of yourself that you never knew existed.

[aesop_chapter title=”Chakra” subtitle=”Roots” bgtype=”img” full=”on” img=”http://thelovestory.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/5337774.jpg” bgcolor=”#888888″]

 

Felise then asks us to open up our chakras, all seven of them.

“Start at the root chakra, located at the bottom of your spine,” she says. I’m squinty my eyes so I can peek at Kyle, curious if he was already into the meditation or if he has deemed this all bologna.

But his eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as he took deep breaths. I closed my eye again and sighed. This part was hard for me, because I felt like I was among seasoned chakra-openers. I felt silly for even trying to “open” a place I could only see with my imagination. And yet, by the time she called for us to open up our crown chakra, I started to feel something being released from the crown of my head.

The instant I felt like I was floating, Felise told us to open our eyes.

Once the feeling subsided, Felise instructed us to go deeper to find the chakra points that spoke to us and write a statement once we find that chakra.

At this point, I was beginning to have major doubts. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I believe in this chakra stuff? Frustrated, I stopped. But soon realize the  But then I pushed all doubts about the session out of my mind and decided to let go of all these thoughts.  As if that was the key ingredient, a sudden realization in the form of my own voice came softly to my presence:  It said, “Why do I not love myself?”

My mind took me the dark place–high school, where I told myself I was not even remotely pretty or good enough for boys to look at. I convinced myself back then that I was too overweight to wear beautiful clothes, so I donned jeans and pullovers every day for a year. Whenever I looked into a mirror, I hated what I saw. My mind had made its own perfectly contained prison where I was punishing myself for more than five years, and only now I was released on probation.

Only now could I start to see myself clearly in the mirror and liked what reflected back to me. Through my haze of the past, I saw the most vivid forest green color. My heart chakra was speaking to me. I saw it clearly and understood what I knew all along, but only ignored: that I needed to find a way to love myself.

When five minutes were up, Felise went around in the circle and asked each person what their question or statement was. She then told them what the angels were telling her; she told them their respective color that the angels use to heal their wounds. Each person shared out something that was moving; one of the dark haired girls was worried about being successful in a new job. Felise told her she needed to focus on her yellow chakra, the center for manifesting our goals.

Since I had initially told Felicia that my purpose here was purely for research, I skipped for this assessment. Initially, I let out a sigh of relief knowing that I didn’t have to expose my revelation to my boyfriend and five other strangers that I didn’t love myself. However, as we were in the car driving home, I couldn’t help but feel that I had robbed myself of a cathartic experience.

[aesop_chapter title=”From the Heart” bgtype=”img” full=”on” img=”http://thelovestory.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Doorway-to-Heaven.jpg” bgcolor=”#888888″]

 

Kyle started talking about the experience right away, discussing how he felt as if rocks had been lifted from his shoulders. I was numb on the outside, but felt bubbly on the inside.

He then asked me what I wrote on my piece of paper. “I wanted to work on loving myself.” He looked at me for a second, then asked me what color I saw when I meditated on what I wrote.

“A dark green color, almost like a forest.”

He gave me a sly smile, then grabbed for my hand and clenched it hard. “That’s the heart chakra, huh?” he said, and I nodded. “That is perfect because you are the sweetest sweet-heart I have ever met.”

“Bah, you only say that because I cry a lot.”

“No really Nicole,” Kyle said, still clenching my hand, “you have so many feelings and I’m glad you’ve shared them with me, even if you couldn’t share them during the meditation.”

I stared at him for a moment, letting his words sink in. I felt the strongest effects of the angel therapy session right then and there in the car. I could feel a love growing within the fiber of my being, deep down at my core.

Kyle did not judge me for not loving myself; he planted the seeds long ago and helped me prune, cutting off the diseased part and watering the newly formed buds. The meditation was a mirror for me, uncovering the hateful, sorrowful side of me and reflecting it back, forcing me to stare it down and recognize it for how ugly it was. Then, the session allowed me to let it go. I can’t give conclusive evidence of any angel’s presence there that day, but what I do know without a doubt is that after the experience, something awakened in the form of green pastures paved by my heart chakra.


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